


Draco Does it All Again: Third Year

by Emma_with_her_head_in_the_clouds



Series: Draco Does it All Again [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protagonist Draco, Swearing, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 41,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22051801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_with_her_head_in_the_clouds/pseuds/Emma_with_her_head_in_the_clouds
Summary: This whole do-over seems to be going well. Draco's made friends with Harry, and this year should be chill right? (There shouldn't be an escaped prisoner causing trouble this time round, after all). Wrong.
Series: Draco Does it All Again [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1342282
Comments: 441
Kudos: 768





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And so we're back! Third year it is! This one might be shorter than the other two (because, as you may have noticed, I have already counteracted the main storyline). But don't worry, I have some other ideas for the plot of this one.  
> Updates may be rather slow, because I'm pretty with work, but I'll try not to keep you waiting too long.

After father had apparated him from Platform 9 3/4, back to the Manor, Draco headed almost straight off to his room. Sure, it was probably a bit childish, but hey, he was a child, he had an excuse. Time had passed since his last confrontation with his father, and Draco felt less and less like having another. His father almost certainly was hiding a whole load of dark secrets regarding the diary and the whole mess with the Heir of Slytherin, and Draco didn't much fancy dirtying himself digging through them. He figured the information wouldn't be that much use to him anyway.

He had to come down for dinner though.

"Draco! Come, tell us about your year!" his mother gushed as she saw him arrive, "We've not seen you for months, and you've been hiding away in your room all evening!"

"I've been unpacking, mother. And you saw me at Easter."

"You don't need to unpack. That's what we have elves for. And I'd barely call our meeting at Easter getting to see you properly. We didn't get to speak without my cousin being there after all."

"You'll have heard that he did get custody of Potter, I assume," his father interjected.

"Yes. Harry was most pleased. Thank you for your assistance with the matter," Draco replied, giving his father a stare to make clear his thanks were not sincere.

"I'm glad I could be of help."

Mother brought the topic of conversation back to Draco and his school year. He gave them a brief and edited summary. When he got to the part about the Chamber of Secrets, he mentioned how Ginny Weasley had been possessed by a form of Voldemort via a diary, but did not mention where she acquired it. His mother sounded pretty horrified by it all, and seemingly naïve of the details she hadn't already heard about. Draco hoped that she had been completely innocent in the matter, that his father had been acting alone (whatever his precise involvement was), but deep inside he knew he might never know for sure. He'd always known she was better at keeping secrets than father.

The next day at breakfast, mother brought up the subject of Draco's birthday. Last year the three of them had just spent the day together whilst in France. He'd had a cake and special tea (and of course gifts), but they hadn't made an especially big deal of it.

"You're going to be 13 this year darling! My little Dragon's growing up! We'll have to do something special to mark the occasion!"

"Can I have my friends round?"

"Yes, we could have a party, invite all your classmates round for tea!" _The wording of that seems… suspicious. As if she's thinking just Slytherins._

"Including Harry, Ron and Hermione of course? They are my best friends after all."

"I'm not so sure that…" father began.

"Of course darling!" mother interrupted. "It's your birthday after all. You can invite all your friends." _Has she finally accepted that I'm friends with the Gryffindors? Or is she plotting something?_

So in the end, invites went out to his three Gryffindor friends, as well as all the other Slytherins in his year. He didn't really speak much with all of them, but his parents seemed to want to invite most of them, and he didn't want to be seen as snubbing any of them by leaving them out. The combination of Slytherins and Gryffindors might end up being a bit… awkward. Draco just hoped no untoward incidents broke out between them. He'd settle for glares and muttered insults, as long as no wands were drawn. _I really need to start making some friends in other Houses to act as buffers_. He'd made a start at befriending Lovegood, he supposed, but he wasn't sure how effective a buffer she would be if he had known her well enough to invite her. He wouldn't be totally surprised if the girl had the ability to make tensions worse somehow.

He received letters accepting his invitation from most of the Slytherins, and from Ron and Hermione (who was in fact the first to reply). However, after a few days, he received a letter from Harry saying that Sirius was not keen on Harry attending. It sounded like Harry had been trying to argue, but his Godfather wasn't budging. "I ** _'ve been trying to tell him that you're my friend and I trust you, but Sirius is still quite paranoid. He doesn't trust your father, and says he doesn't think it's safe for me to go round to your house. I've told him he's being ridiculous, but I'm trying not to fight with him. He's been so kind to me, and living with him is great. I just wish he'd understand not all Slytherins are like his family were_**." _Has he forgotten that technically, I am a Slytherin who is his family?_

Draco decided the best person to discuss this with would be mother. Hopefully she might be able to resolve the situation diplomatically. Sirius seemed to hate her slightly less than he hated father anyway (they'd managed to meet without killing each other after all).

He wasn't sure precisely what she'd said to Sirius, but a few days later she announced that Harry would be indeed attending Draco's party, and that Sirius would be accompanying him. It sounded like that was their compromise. It might well be a disaster waiting to happen, but maybe it would make the party entertaining.

The elves were set to making sure the manor was in tip-top condition, ready for Draco's party (despite the fact his mother expected that of them all year round). They all seemed excited. They liked getting to show off their hard work to guests.

Well, all except Dobby.

Draco found the eccentric elf muttering to himself whilst supposedly dusting the library.

"Good afternoon Dobby," Draco decided to open with ( _What the hell has happened to me? I'm being polite to a House Elf!)_

"Good afternoon Master Draco," the elf replied, sounding slightly embarrassed that Draco might have overheard him complaining.

"What's the matter?" ( _Might as well at least try and deal with whatever the elf has a problem with, before he manages to cause more chaos_.)

"You is having a party."

"Yes."

"And Harry Potter will be coming."

"Yes, amongst other people." He looked at the elf. He looked upset. "What's the problem? You like Harry. Don't you want to see him?"

"Dobby would be honoured to see Harry Potter. But Dobby wants Harry Potter to be safe."

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't Harry be safe?"

"Because…" the elf began, only to stop and start bashing himself over the head with a rather large hardback tome.

"Dobby, do you know of something? A threat to Harry? A threat at my party?"

"Not a specific threat, no…"

"Is this just about everything with my father and the diary and that whole mess at school?" Dobby didn't say anything, but he didn't deny it either, so Draco took that as a yes.

"I will make sure nothing happens to Harry at my party. I promise. He's my friend. Please don't go doing anything to try and stop him from coming. If you hear of anything that worries you about Harry, come to me.

"But Dobby might not be able to. Not if Master…"

"Not if father tells you not to say anything," Draco finished for him. "Yes, that's a problem. Leave it with me."

It took Draco a little while, but he came up with a plan. Not necessarily a good plan. Not a plan he ever expected to make. But a plan nevertheless.

"Father. I am going to be 13 this year," he announced over dinner, using his best 'child pretending to be an adult' voice.

"Yes, I am aware."

"I will be a teenager. Nearly an adult. I need to start knowing how to be an adult. I need my own House Elf. One that listens to me, and just to me."

"But darling, the elves listen to you," his mother interrupted. "Has one of them been giving you problems? Do I need to have a word."

"No. But one day I will run a household, and all the elves will answer to me. It's time I got to experience giving orders properly. I need my own elf."

"I can see what I can do," father replied, "but elves can be difficult to source, particularly at short notice."

"I want Dobby."

"What!?"

"I want Dobby?"

"Dobby? But he's not a very good elf. Maybe we could see about one of the other elves working for you."

"No, I want Dobby."

"But Dobby doesn't obey orders well. He's a bit… deficit. You won't get good experience of what it is like mastering proper elves."

"You think I can't do it. You think I'm a child," Draco pouted, giving it all he had.

"No, but…" his father began, only to be interrupted by mother.

"If you really want Dobby, then you can have him darling. But are you sure? It's not as easy it you might think, being a master of an elf. Particularly one like Dobby. You'll need to be able to give him strict instructions. And discipline him when he doesn't obey."

"Thank you mother! Yes, I'm sure. I know I am more than up to the challenge."

And so that is how Draco acquired himself a House Elf. A deranged House Elf, who was obsessed with one of his best friends, and came up with crazy plans like nearly killing him with rogue quidditch equipment in order to "keep him safe". _What have I let myself in for?_


	2. Chapter 2

Draco decided he should have a sit down with his newly acquired elf, to establish some ground rules.

"So Dobby, you're my elf now. So if there's something that concerns you, I want you to come tell me, understand?"

"Yes Master Draco."

"So you're not going to do anything to try and stop Harry coming to my party?" he confirmed. The elf paused before answering. _That's not a good sign._

"No, master Draco."

"Dobby, what did I just say?"

"Sorry Master Draco. Dobby will punish himself…"

"No!" Draco interrupted. "That's not what I want! I just want to have a nice party with my friends there."

"Dobby won't stop Harry Potter from coming," the elf defeatedly promised. "And Dobby will tell Master Draco if he's worried about something, if he can."

"If you can? You're my elf now Dobby. You can tell me anything. I promise. I won't punish you for honesty."

"I know you're my Master now. But an elf can't betray the secrets of their former Master."

"Ah… of course." _And don't you bet, father will have reminded him of that, before handing him over._ "Well, tell me what you can, even if you can't always give me details.

"Yes Master Draco."

"Do you have any other questions, Dobby? Anything you need from me?"

"No Master Draco." The elf looked rather shocked he was even being asked. _If only the younger me could see me now, being polite to House Elves, and demented ones at that._

"Then why don't you go ahead and see if the other elves in the manor need a hand? I'll call you if I need something.

"Yes Master Draco." With that, the elf apparated away.

Draco's birthday dawned. He was looking forward to his party, but had to admit he was a bit nervous. How would his parents adapt to having _Gryffindors_ in the house? Would Black's insistent presence cause problems? Would the Slytherins argue with his friends?

The clock struck 2 o clock (the time on the invites). Draco stood waiting, wearing his new smart-casual robes he'd received that morning (as his mother spoke at length on how tall he was getting, which wasn't particularly true; sure, he'd had a bit of a growth spurt recently, but was only approximately average height for his age, and provided his growth continued in the same pattern as last time, he still had a fair few inches to grow). He expected most of his guests would floo, with perhaps a few apparating to the gates. Not that he anticipated anyone arriving quite yet; for an event like this, it was rather traditional to arrive fashionably late. No one wants to be the _first_ to arrive at a party.

But Draco was broken from his chain of thought by some confused muttering coming from the House Elves _. What's the problem now?_ He followed them over towards the window they appeared to be gazing out of, to see what sight it was had them all afluster.

_Ah, that would explain it._

There was a car, driving down their drive way. Probably for the first time ever. There'd been carriages on occasion, but never a car. Malfoy's had never associated with the kind of people in the past who were likely to own a car, or even know what one was really.

It didn't take him long to realise who it was. It must be Hermione. Of course she would arrive at the time written on the invites. He'd not thought about how she would arrive, which was rather lax of him. She lived a fair distance away. It must have taken her ages to arrive by Muggle means. He could have asked Mother to apparate and pick her up (there was no way he would have sent father. Mother might have turned her nose up at going to a _Muggle_ house, but would have at least not said anything out loud). Alas, it was too late now.

Draco went to get the door himself. His parents were likely planning on greeting his guests (but like Draco, hadn't anticipated them arriving on time), and Draco would prefer to greet this one himself. Her parents may well walk her to the door, and he didn't want to risk his father making some kind of subtle insult. He could have sent an elf to get the door, but again, he wasn't sure how well that would go down with Muggles. Hermione's parents would probably never have seen a House Elf before.

Soon enough, the door bell rang. Hermione was stood there, looking slightly apprehensive, with two people stood behind her that were clearly her parents.

"Draco! Happy birthday!" she smiled, handing him a surpisingly heavy parcel wrapped in rather vibrant patterned paper. She lifted an arm as if she was thinking of hugging him, only to change her mind.

"Thank you! Thanks for coming."

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione's mum injected, "Hermione's told us lots about you." _Well, that sounds ominous._

"Oh, yes, it's nice to meet you too."

"Are your parents not here?"

"Oh, yes, they're around here somewhere. I think they're just finishing getting everything ready."

"Come on dear, don't start interrogating the lad," Hermione's dad said to his wife. "We'll leave you to it. Have a nice time. Hermione, we'll be back at 8pm to pick you up."

"I'm sure we could give her a lift back if you want. It must be quite a long journey for you."

"Oh, thank you, but it's no trouble. We're going to meet up with a friend from university who lives not too far from here that we haven't seen in ages. It's given us a good excuse for a catch-up."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Yes. Have a nice time."

Draco led Hermione through to the sitting room, where there was a table set up for gifts, and any guests flooing in would arrive.

"Am I the first one here?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"Yes. No one else is as punctual as you." He could have said that sarcastically, but there was a fondness to his voice.

They were interrupted by Dobby popping into the middle of the room. Hermione jumped, but tried to pretend she hadn't been surprised by the elf's sudden appearance.

"Good afternoon Miss Hermione," the elf greeted, "Can I take your cloak?" His face fell as he looked up and realised the girl was not in fact wearing one. Hermione was dressed in a clearly Muggle pale pink cotton dress, with a little white cardigan. She'd never been one for conforming to wizarding dress codes when she didn't have to. Draco would once have judged her for it, but not anymore. It was a hot day and Draco figured once they went out side, he'd be pretty hot in his robes (despite them supposedly being 'summer' ones).

"Dobby, how about you fetch us some drinks please?" Draco interjected. The elf popped away and returned a tray full of glasses of iced butterbeer.

"Thank you Dobby. Hermione, have you been introduced to Dobby? He helped us out with the whole business last year. He's my elf now; I got him for my birthday."

"You got a sentient being for your birthday…" _Oh no_. Draco _did not_ like that tone. He seemed to recall she supported the concept of Dobby's liberation last time round, and was encouraging other elves to follow suit.

The awkwardness was interrupted by the fireplace bursting to life as someone came through the floo.

"Draco!" Pansy purred, stepping neatly out of the hearth and dusting down her silver robes, "Happy birthday!" She leaned in and pecked his cheek as she passed him a beautifully wrapped parcel. She gazed around the room, her face falling as she realised Hermione was the only other person there.

"Thank you for coming, Pansy," Draco smiled. They'd been closer in his previous life than in this one. He didn't necessarily like the people they'd been back then (the relationship had hardly brought out the better parts of either of them). But he wasn't against them being friends of sorts now. He'd been trying last year, but this year he really should continue to make inroads into having Slytherin allies. If things went the same way as last time, there was only a couple of years before Voldemort's return would make everything more complicated. If he could make his house even consider choosing the second option (or even just be more neutral), he would count it as a success.

The doorbell went off at that point. Someone else not arriving by floo (but presumably, not by car either).

"Please excuse me for a minute ladies." Hopefully they wouldn't be arguing when he returned. He knew Hermione would be highly unlikely to draw her wand, but Pansy could make some sharp barbs, and Hermione wasn't one to hold her words back when someone made her angry and she had something to say.

When he got to the door, he found his parents already there, talking with Millicent Bulstrode's father, whilst the girl stood silently to his side.

"Yes, well, I shall be heading back now," the man concluded, on noticing Draco's appearance. "I shall be back to collect you this evening, Millicent." He turned to leave, only to turn back to Draco to add "Oh, and many happy returns on your birthday young man." His disinterested tone suggested the addition was out of politeness rather than any actual good wishes.

"Thank you Sir."

Draco led Millicent back to the sitting room slightly apprehensively. He couldn't hear shouting, but quiet conversation met his ears as he opened the doors. The tone and body-language of both girls was rather stilted, but at least they seemed to be making an effort at cordiality.

Crabbe and Goyle were next to arrive, followed by Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. The latter pair struck up a conversation with Pansy; the most free and natural interaction so far. Hermione looked glad when Ron arrived; the boy looking thrilled to meet her eyes after roving over the crowd of Slytherins. Blaise Zabini arrived next, quickly followed by Theo Nott. Draco's parents came and joined them in the sitting room, going around and making small talk (though they appeared to be avoiding the Gryffindors). Everyone was here now. Except Harry.

Draco was just starting to wonder if Sirius had changed his mind and decided they weren't coming, when the floo lit up once more and the pair stepped out. Well, more accurately, Sirius stepped out (trying to look as blasé as possible, but Draco thought he spotted a hint of nervousness underneath). Harry more stumbled out. Apparently he still hadn't got the hang of travelling by floo (but hey, at least he arrived in the right palace this time?) Both were wearing red robes (Harry's more of a maroon than his Godfather's). Draco would bet that Sirius chose the colour on purpose, to highlight to everyone that they were Gryffindors (as if any of them could forget). Harry looked good in his robes. It was a change to see him in a high-quality, well-tailored set of robes, rather than his basic off-the-rack school robes, or the poor quality Muggle clothing his aunt and uncle had provided him with. Maybe Draco would finally be able to tick _Quality Tailoring_ off his 'teach Harry' to-do list.

Dobby and the other elves brought round appetisers and canapes, and Draco found himself circling the room, talking with his guests. Though there were some tense sounding tones at times, there was no raised voices, and everyone seemed to be managing to keep it civil. Even Sirius. He and father seemed to enter into a quiet verbal sparring match. Draco had considered intervening, until he spotted the look of amusement on his mother's face. She was enjoying it _way_ too much.

Ron had managed to strike up a conversation about quidditch with Crabbe and Goyle. It wasn't exactly an in-depth conversation (but then again, the Slytherin duo had never been the best conversation partners), but Draco was pleased everyone seemed to be trying.

At one point he found Harry sandwiched between Zabini and Nott on a sofa, which struck him as strange. Both Slytherins seemed to be listening intently to him. Harry looked a bit weirded out, but also seemed to be enjoying the attention, bemused as he was by it. Draco left them to it, giving his friend a supportive smile as he walked past, trying to let him know that if he wanted an out, he only had to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In canon Draco's birthday might not be this time of year- I did look it up on Pottermore and then forgot/ignored it, because the only canon I'm trying to specifically follow is the books, and in the books I don't believe it specifies Draco's birthday.  
> I originally wrote that Hermione's parents were visiting a friend and her wife, but then realised sadly that would be an anachronism considering this is meant to be set in 1990s UK.  
> I wasn't sure if this was the right place to end the chapter, but I have a plan for the next bit and it might be a bit long to fit in this one. (It's arguably all filler, but hopefully will be fun filler). Hopefully it won't be too long before I have the next chapter written (I'll try and work on it this week), but please don't hold it against me if it's a week or two...


	3. Chapter 3

After a while, Draco's mother suggested they relocate outside to the patio.

"It's such a lovely day! Now everyone's here, we should go out and enjoy the sunshine!"

The announcement was rather met with indifference, but they headed out anyway.

"Mate, is that a quidditch pitch!?" Ron asked in amazement, spotting the hoops in the distance.

"Yeah, it is."

"Awesome! We should all play!"

Draco looked around the crowd. _There's enough of us for a quidditch match, right?_ He started counting. 12 children, including himself.

"We won't be able to play full teams. Unless... Father, Sirius, do you want to play."

"I think I shall be staying on the ground," father quickly replied. "I shall referee."

"Sirius?" The man's attention had been caught, and he looked excited. _Maybe this could help me start making a good impression with him?_

"Sure, I'd be up for it. It's been too long since I've been on a broom," the man smiled. "Cissy?" He turned questionably to Draco's mother, who looked surprised. "Don't give me that look! I seem to recall you being pretty handy on a broom, even if you never played quidditch because you were too busy being ladylike." Mother frowned, but also looked quite pleased by the complement too.

"Come on Mother, then we can play full teams!" Draco added.

"Go on then," she smiled, trying to look reluctant (but Draco thought she looked quite excited.

"Erm, Draco, are you not going to ask us if we want to play?" Pansy asked.

"We're all going to play," he replied, thinking she was feeling snubbed.

"No we're not. I don't do quidditch, and particularly not in these robes."

"Come on Pansy. Please. It is my birthday." He tried to give her a begging look.

"No, sorry. Pull all the faces you want at me. Not happening."

"But the teams will be uneven."

"I won't play either," Hermione added.

"What!? Hermione!" Ron complained.

"I'm terrible on a broom, and if you haven't noticed, I'm hardly wearing a suitable outfit. Plus, now the teams will be even."

"Fine. Everyone else will play, right?" Draco asked the crowd (slightly forcefully). There were some shrugs, but no one else spoke up to say they wouldn't play.

They realised they would have to find brooms for everyone. Quite a few people had their own brooms at home, and flooed back to grab them. Father said he could borrow some; he didn't specify from where, but returned with five Nimbus 2000s. Draco was rather suspicious, but decided not to ask.

People were re-congregating in the garden. Draco looked around, trying to work out if they had enough brooms yet. Everyone was holding a broom except Tracey, and Harry, though the latter was waiting for Sirius to return with their brooms (surprisingly, Sirius had trusted them enough to leave Harry there whilst he went back to their house on his own to grab their brooms). It appeared they were going to be one broom short.

Draco was just about to ask if anyone else had a spare, when Sirius returned, having been away quite a while. He was holding Harry's Nimbus, as well as an older broom that was clearly his own (Draco couldn't see what type it was from where he was stood, but it looked like quite a classic, and probably very good in its day). But he was also levitating a box behind him.

"Harry. I'd bought you this for you birthday, but I thought you might as well have it now," he announced, levitating the box over to him. Harry looked pretty surprised, but started opening the box anyway.

"Sirius, is this a Firebolt?"

"Yep! I figured I have a lot of birthdays and Christmases to make up for."

"You didn't have to buy me anything! This must have cost a fortune!"

"I wanted to! Can't a man spoil his Godson?"

"Thank you!" the boy cried, running over and hugging the man. Sirius seemed to flinch slightly at first, but settled into the hug.

Once the two were done with their embrace, they all got ready to play (with Tracey borrowing Harry's Nimbus, and Harry on the new Firebolt). Draco started organising them into teams.

"Well, Harry and I will be seekers. Keepers will be Ron," [ _he'd been an ok keeper when he wasn't too busy letting me distract him,_ Draco seemed to recall.] "and... Theo?" Ron looked surprised, but agreed. Theo looked non-plussed, but shrugged in agreement. "Crabbe and Goyle can be one set of beaters. Blaise and Millicent the other?" he suggested. "And that leaves two chasers per team: Tracey and Daphne, and Mother and Sirius?"

So it was Draco, Ron, Millicent, Blaise, Narcissa and Sirius, against Harry, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne and Tracey.

"I'll cheer for your team," Pansy announced. "And Hermione can cheer for Harry's." Hermione shrugged in agreement. There was a quick debate amongst the team members about team names. After multiple shot-down suggestions, they settled on _The Charmers_ and _The Lightning Bolts_ (the latter being suggested by Theo, enthusiastically supported Daphne, and bemusedly accepted by Harry).

The teams were on their brooms on the pitch, Lucius blew his whistle (that he had found from somewhere) and they were off. It was immediately clear who the confident fliers were, and who weren't, but soon everyone was in the air looking at least somewhat comfortable. Draco and Harry enjoyed flying round each other, racing through the air, and watching the other players more than they were looking out for the snitch. Daphne and Tracey had a lot of the possession to begin with, though hadn't managed to get the quaffle past Ron. However, Sirius and Narcissa slowly started coming into their own. To Draco's surprise, Sirius hadn't been wrong when he said Narcissa was good on a broom. She zoomed through the air with an elegance none of the others could match, intercepting catches and dodging around other players. Sirius' flying on the other hand looked a lot less fluid, darting around the pitch, a cheeky grin on his face as he swerved out of the way last minute. The combination of the two of them, somehow, was working though. The ball danced between the two of them as they made their way across the pitch, and Sirius launched it past Theo's reaching hands to score the first goal of the match. More quickly followed.

It wasn't just Sirius and Narcissa who made a surprisingly good team. Draco wasn't surprised Crabbe and Goyle worked well together (though they weren't as effective a team as he might have thought; they weren't managing to impede Narcissa and Sirius much after all). However, Millicent and Blaise were being surprisingly effective. They weren't as much a coordinated unit as Crabbe and Goyle, but individually, they were bossing it. Draco had long suspected that Millicent could make a good beater, with her powerful forearms and analytical mind (adding something more than just the brute force Slytherin usually looked for in a beater), but he'd mainly just put Blaise in the position to fill the slot. He might only have been an average flier, and not as powerful a hitter as the others, but his aim was deadly. He seemed to know just where to aim the bludger to cause the most chaos to the opposing team, and would launch it there with breath-taking accuracy.

Draco was enjoying watching the match so much, he almost forgot he was meant to be looking for the snitch.

"Oi, Draco!" Pansy yelled at him from her seat at the side of the pitch. "We might be winning, but it's no excuse for you to take a nap! Go get the snitch!" He saluted jokingly at her and flew off around the pitch again, to look for the snitch in earnest.

It was another 10 minutes before he spotted it. Harry seemed to spot it at the same time. It was a straight race between the two of them. There was a fair bit of shoulder barging going on, but it was all in good fun. Without them having a scoreboard, they'd had to rely on listening to Lucius' announcements to know what the score was. Draco hadn't heard for a while, but he was reasonably sure his team was ahead by just over 150 points. Harry seemed to be dead-set on getting the snitch too though. Maybe he wasn't thinking about the score. Maybe he thought the gap was smaller. Or maybe he was just determined to stop Draco getting it.

Harry and Draco flew along, skimming the ground, the snitch just beyond their reaching fingers. They could hear Pansy and Hermione enthusiastically cheering them on, and Draco wouldn't doubt many of the players on the pitch would probably be watching them too. A gasp went out as Draco tipped sideways on his broom as the elbow barging continued, but he clung on, righting himself again. The mistake however, had given Harry an advantage; a minuscule lead, but one he made the most of.

"And Potter catches the snitch!" Lucius announced. "That brings _The Lightning Bolts_ ' score up to 190! It's a good score, but doesn't quite reach _The Charmers_ 210\. _The Charmers_ take the match!"

There was much congratulating and bantering between the players as they landed, heading over to gladly descend on the iced pumpkin juice and other assorted drinks and snacks the elves had brought out whilst they were playing. Draco made sure to go round and congratulate everyone.

"I never knew you had such deadly aim!" he remarked to Blaise, who raised his eyebrows as if to say " _you underestimated me?"._ "Have you thought about trying out for the team?"

"I have better things to do with my time than farcing around playing quidditch."

" _Farcing around? Really?_ That's a wizarding institution you're insulting," Draco joked back. "Besides, what do you have to do, that makes your time so precious?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. That's if you're not too busy wasting your time playing your _wizarding institution,_ and courting chaos with your Gryffindors."

"Well, I am getting pretty good at solving mysteries."

"You might have met your match."

"You think you're harder to figure out than the Dark Lord himself?" Blaise said nothing, but his face said _"Bitch please, of course I am."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter! More "character exploring"/ fun "filler", but hopefully it's entertaining. We'll probably move on from Draco's party next chapter, but I have a few more ideas to cover before they get back to Hogwarts.  
> Thanks for all the support for this story so far! It's really kept me motivated. Next chapter hopefully won't be too long away again (I'll do my best!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! Life's been busy. Had to buy a new car, and I've been working nights this week. This is a pretty short chapter (even for me, who writes shorter chapters than a lot of people do), but this seemed like a good point to end it, and I thought you might as well have it now, rather than keeping you hanging until whenever I get chance to write the next bit.

Once they were suitably refreshed, it was time for Draco to open his presents. He received a surprisingly high number of books. _Has everyone pegged me for a nerd in this timeline?_ Not that he was complaining, some of them looked very interesting. Hermione's in particular. She'd got him a couple of tomes on Charms and Defence; not Dark ones (obviously, although maybe slightly less whiter-than-white than the old him would have expected of her), but on flipping through, contained quite a few spells he didn't recognise. Even the other Slytherins looked reluctantly impressed (and possibly like they'd be asking to borrow them).

He was slightly surprised by Blaise's present, a book entitled 'How Not To Die Before You Turn Thirty'. Firstly by the rather blatant hinting Blaise was making about Draco's tendency to get into chaos with the Gryffindors, but also the fact the book was clearly Muggle.

He'd also received Muggle books from Harry, this time fiction.

"I hope you like them," Harry told him, sounding uncertain. "I wasn't sure what to get you. I thought it would be useful for when you're taking Muggle Studies, and a lot of these are meant to be classics. I've only read a couple of them, but I enjoyed them." Hermione went through the pile, announcing which ones she'd read, and enthusiastically recommending her favourites.

Draco had also received a separate present from Sirius, to his surprise. It was a cloak. It was a pretty nice one, made for mild weather rather than winter (suitable for cooler summer days, or for wearing in Spring and Autumn). And it was red. Of course. Not bright red, more of a burgundy colour, but red nevertheless. That would limit when he could wear it at school (at least, if he didn't want to get the whole place talking), but the weather up there was often pretty frigid anyway.

After all his gifts had been opened, and he'd properly thanked everyone, it was time for tea. The elves had really been busy, cooking up a feast. The meal was buffet style, rather than a sit-down meal, and they ate it in the ballroom, where little tables had been laid out. People sat down in little groups, chatting as they ate, and the elves circulated round, offering more food and topping up drinks.

Draco looked across to see Dobby fawning over Harry (whilst the elf was supposedly refreshing his drink).

"It is a honour to serve the great Harry Potter," the elf announced, to Harry's awkward embarrassment, and Sirius' bemusement.

"Oh, erm, thank you Dobby."

"You've met before?" Sirius asked, surprised to find Harry knew the elf's name (and that a Malfoy elf would be sucking up to Harry).

""Yes, Dobby tried to... _protect_ me last year. And he was helping us with the whole Basilisk situation," (Sirius shuddered slightly at that, not pleased to think about the danger his Godson and ended up in). "I hear you're Draco's elf now?" Harry asked the elf.

"Yes, Master Draco had requested my service as part of his birthday gift."

"He felt he needed to have his own elf, did he? I've never seen the appeal myself." [Sirius seemed oblivious to the slight look of hurt on Dobby's face]. "Then again, I doubt anyone who grew up with Kreacher for an elf would be. Thank Merlin I managed to get rid of him before you got home, Harry."

"You... gave him clothes?" Dobby asked uncertainly, nervous about how exactly Sirius had "got rid of" his elf.

"No, I sent him away to look after one of the smaller, mostly abandoned Black properties. That way he's out of my hair, and not undermining my attempts to make the house actually habitable, but he's still sworn to keep the Black secrets."

"He's on his own?"

"He's been on his own for years. Quite frankly I think he prefers it. I certainly do, anyway."

After tea, there was time to play a few party games, before it was time for everyone to leave. It seemed like all his guests had genuinely had a good time, and things had been surprisingly civil between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins (he'd hoped they'd at least tolerate each other, for etiquette's sake if nothing else, but they actually seemed to be warming up to each other's company, which was a reassuring sign for his [poorly developed] future plans). It was the arrival of Hermione's parents (prompt, as he would expect of the people who raised Hermione) that reminded them that 8pm had come around. There was a variety of looks in the direction of the pair and the car they arrived in, though mostly whilst they weren't looking. Some people looked bemused at the vehicle (such as Crabbe and Goyle), some looked disapproving (Pansy), some looked interested (such as Ron), and surprisingly, Blaise looked, _impressed?_

One thing that surprised Draco was that whilst he was saying goodbye to his guests, mother seemed to be having some kind of in depth chat with Sirius, using that voice she used when she was determined she was going to have her own way about things. _I wonder what that's about?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write Kreacher out entirely (because I don't think a free Sirius would want to keep him around at all). But then I felt like I might need him for the plot at a later point, so for now he's On A Bus, and can come back later if the plot demands.
> 
> I've decided the interpretation of Blaise I'm going with is mysterious, with lots of hidden layers (and more knowledge of Muggle things than would be expected).


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of days later, Draco was sat in the library, reading one of his new books, when mother popped her head in to tell him that Harry was calling on the floo next door.

"Draco, hi!" he called out from the flames as he saw Draco enter the room. "Do people really do this all the time? Who decided sticking your head in a fire was a good way to communicate?"

"Well, it's more efficient than writing letters."

"Writing doesn't risk burning your face off."

"Well, do you want me to call you instead then, so you don't have to? Not that you're really at risk of burning your face."

"No, it's fine. Thanks though. I need to get used to it. Plus I'm not sure if you'll be able to call here anyway."

"Why?"

"We've got strict security on the floo. Only a very small number of approved people can use it."

"And I'm not on that list."

"Almost no one is yet. Ron and Hermione aren't either. I'll have to ask Sirius to add you." _I'm not so sure he will..._

"So are you just calling to practice floo-calling?"

"No! I was calling to ask if you wanted to come round on Monday?"

"Will Sirius be okay with that?"

"He's not keen..." Harry reluctantly admitted, "But he said you could. I think your mother persuaded him."

"Did she!?" _How and why and when had she done that?_

"I think so. So how about it?"

"That sounds great. But how will I get there, if I can't use the floo."

"Oh, I'd not thought of that. I'll have to ask Sirius."

Rather than adding Draco to the floo permissions, Sirius apparently decided that he would apparate over to collect Draco instead. Draco came out to meet him, to find him speaking with mother again. They stopped when he approached, so he didn't get chance to overhear them. They didn't exactly look friendly, rather tense in fact, albeit not overtly hostile.

"Have a lovely time darling," mother said, whilst patting him on the shoulder. "I will see you later." The ' _in one piece, or else'_ wasn't said, but was communicated in a look from Narcissa to Sirius.

Sirius put a hand on Draco's shoulder, shared a look with him to ask 'are you ready?' and then they were spinning through the squeezing uncomfortableness that was disapparation, and reappearing on a rather ordinary looking terraced street. Draco didn't ask which house they were aiming for, instead following Sirius in silence. After a short distance, suddenly a house appeared in a gap between two others that wasn't there before. Clearly they'd reached their destination.

Sure enough, Sirius led them up to the front door, opening it with a tap of his wand. Draco followed him inside. He was met by a simple but tastefully decorated hallway. Sirius clearly saw him looking around.

"You wouldn't recognise it from how it looked a few months ago. It was a dingy frightful hole. I've had to strip the whole house practically to make it habitable. There were mounted elf heads up there," [he pointed up the staircase], "and there was a portrait of my monstrous mother up there. I had to hire an expert to get that down. Destroying it wasn't half cathartic." The look of joy on his face was quite frankly psychotic.

"Draco!" Harry's voice rung out from up the stairs, quickly followed by the boy himself racing down. "You're here!"

"Clearly."

"Come on, I'll show you around!"

They headed down the corridor, Harry leading, and Sirius following behind them.

"So here's the kitchen. This is..."

"WEREWOLF!!!" Draco yelled. It was the werewolf, sat at the table. Draco's mind didn't think of the year he'd been taught by him, uneventfully. Instead, his mind was flooded with images of Greyback and his pack of monsters. He wandlessly summoned a silver knife from the drying rack by the sink into his hand, whilst he fumbled getting his wand out of his pocket (he'd not worn his holster as he thought Sirius might see it as an act of aggression). Sirius was quicker getting his wand out and was pointing it angrily at Draco.

"Woah!" Harry shouted, holding up his hands, trying to de-escalate the sudden tension. "No! This is Remus, Sirius' friend. He's not a werewolf!"

"Well, actually..." the man in question started.

"Remus!" Sirius protested, not lowing his wand or switching his gaze from Draco.

"We might as well be honest. Yes, Draco, Harry, I'm a werewolf. But I'm not going to hurt you, I swear."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Do you expect anyone who's seen Greyback and his monsters to believe you?"

"You've met Greyback?" Lupin questioned, taken aback.

"Yes..."

"Your parents let him near you!?" Sirius asked

"They don't know. I don't want to talk about it." Lupin looked a bit more understanding at Draco. And also pitying.

"If you've met Greyback, I'm not surprised you're afraid." _. Oh fuck. I'd not thought this through. If Sirius is indeed speaking with mother, he's going to ask about this isn't he? And she won't have a clue what he's on about. Considering it's not happened yet._

"I'm not afraid..." Draco tried to protest.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were," Lupin replied, not looking like he believed him, but ignoring the lie. "But I promise you, I won't hurt you. Or Harry. Or anyone. Do you think Sirius would let me in the house with his godson if I was a threat. I promise you, I'm not like Greyback."

"Even if you mean it that you don't want to hurt us, can you say the same of the wolf?"

"I would never come here at the full moon! Not if you or Harry or anyone was here."

"So you'd come and destroy the house alone?"

"No." He looked to Sirius and the two shared a silent conversation.

"Fine. I'll tell him," Black muttered. "He wouldn't be alone, or destroying the place."

"What, you'd be there too? Are you crazy!?"

"No. But I am an Animagus."

"And that is relevant because...?"

"Werewolves don't attack Animagi. Or at least Moony doesn't."

"Moony?"

"Our little nickname. Moony's the reason why me, James and... _the traitor..._ became Animagi. So we could help him when we were at Hogwarts."

"You were a werewolf at school?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore arranged for me to be able to attend," Lupin replied. _Of course he did._ Draco would be surprised, but considering the man allowed the werewolf to teach at the school, it wasn't a big shock to hear he'd let him study there too."

"Why don't we all sit down, have a cup of tea, and talk about it?" Lupin asked, judging that tensions had decreased enough to suggest a de-armament. Draco was still clutching his silver butter knife (clearly Sirius hadn't thrown away all the Black heirlooms in his house makeover if he'd kept the family silver), and Sirius was still vaguely holding his wand out (though more casually now, rather than in a battle-ready stance). Draco slowly walked over to the sink, looking clearly at Sirius as he put the knife back in the drainer. Sirius reluctantly lowered his wand and stowed it back into his pocket.

"Was that accidental magic by the way?" Lupin asked Draco after he came and sat across from him (Sirius took Lupin's left, and Harry joined Draco on his right after he had mashed the tea). "It almost looked like wandless magic. Either way, it was impressive."

"Oh, yeah, I think it must have been accidental magic," Draco lied.

"Hmm..." Lupin replied, not sounding entirely like he believed him. _Shit._

As the conversation continued, so did the relative peace. It wasn't exactly an easy peace, but at least it wasn't outright hostile. Still, Draco was relieved when Harry suggested they continue with the tour of the house (having had his own curiosity suitably quenched, and feeling Draco had been suitably informed about things Harry himself had already known).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually a quick update for once! (Can't promise the next will be though).  
> I was quite looking forward to writing this chapter, but it was quite difficult to write. Hopefully I've covered the characters realistically.  
> Also, on the Grimmauld Place front, I figured a free Sirius would be able to hire experts to clean and remodel the house, rather than it needing to be an all-hands-on-deck amateur mission.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco had a nightmare that night. The first in a long while. He'd tried to bury the more traumatic memories from his first life, to focus on the mission. He'd not even done that really. Focussed on the now. On enjoying his new life, his second chance. Two years had passed, and what did he have to show for it? Progress, sure. But in two more years, Voldemort would rise again, and was he ready? No.

The horrors of the Dark Lord's second rise, his campaign, his regime, they were now fresh in Draco's mind once more as he lay panting in his bed. He was reminded just what was to come, and worse, if Draco failed. Draco must not fail.

Draco took out his to-do lists, and then shoved them away again in disgust. They were next to useless. Trivialities. Vague concepts. They would not win him the forthcoming war.

This year was an opportunity. A blank slate. He could not recall much that had come to pass in this year first time round that was likely to do so again. It had all stemmed from Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. But now time had changed, and the man had been freed by other means, and so the events of the year would differ. In theory, it should be a quiet year. Draco knew not to trust in that idea, but he could hope for it. A chance to plan, to train, to regroup, to get ready, for what was still to come. Voldemort would rise again. Draco knew it. He could feel it. He needed to be ready.

But just as the morning wipes away all but a trace of the nightmares that befouled the night, so does it fade the sentiment and epiphanies that came with them. Sure, Draco remembered thinking, planning, realising this year was an opportunity to prepare. But the fiery spirit that burned within him had simmered down to an ember as the sharpness of the memories that triggered it passed back into the depths of his subconscious once more. Draco arose, breakfasted, then spent a leisurely day reading in the library, cataloguing spells that could be useful, from Hermione's book into his mind, with a generic sense of forward planning, rather than a burning need to prepare.

He did wonder if he would be invited back to the Black House. If nothing else (the desire to spend time with his friend for one), the place really did have a rather stupendous looking library. He'd not had chance to fully explore it (with Harry having many other rooms he wanted to show him), but would be fascinated to get a chance. His friends had been right, with the implication of his presents, this second life was turning him into a bookworm. A thirst for knowledge. He knew he'd need it, to make a success of his mission.

A couple of days later, he received another floo call from Harry, inviting him back round to the house on the 31st, to celebrate Harry's birthday.

"I'm inviting Hermione and Ron too, it'll be great!" Harry gushed.

"Will I be welcome, after last time? That didn't exactly go great. Or start great anyway."

"Sirius says you can come." _Reluctantly,_ his tone implied.

"He's not keen?"

"No," Harry admitted. "But Remus helped persuade him."

" _Remus!?_ But why...?"

"He says it's understandable you'd be scared, if you've been around Greyback. He won't speak of him, but I think Remus is scared of him too." He paused. "What happened?"

"I... I'm sorry. I... can't tell you. Not here, not now. One day, I'll try to explain everything." _One day, will I tell him the truth about it all? And will he hate me for it?_

"Okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

A silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

"So are you up for it? My birthday I mean?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Great!" Harry beamed. But then his face went awkward again.

"What?"

"Oh, it's just... Well Remus was going to be there too. He's Sirius' friend. But he doesn't want to be there, if you don't want him there. If it'll upset you." _I lived through a whole year of him teaching me, I suppose. Not that I knew he was a werewolf at that point. Or what a werewolf really was, outside of fairy-tales and horror stories._

"No, of course! If you want him there, you should have him there. I'll be fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive!" Draco could deal. And if he happened to have a silver dagger hidden on his person, just in case, well that would be his secret, wouldn't it?

Draco spent quite a while thinking about what to buy Harry for his birthday. Often he'd gone with practical, useful gifts for him, things he felt would aid in his survival. Sure, maybe it wasn't necessarily the most sentimental way to go about gifting, but if it helped keep him alive, then it was for the good of all wizard-kind. Plus, Harry always seemed strangely grateful to receive any gift. It was another reason Draco wanted to know just what exactly had gone on between Harry and his aunt and uncle. But like Harry respected Draco's secrets (such as his werewolf issues), Draco needed to respect Harry's. Being well informed for the sake of the mission was all well and good, but not if it came at the expense of the trust he had carefully built between them.

In the end, Draco went with a practical gift again. A red dragon-scale long sleeve top. Strong, resistant to many spells, and designed to be worn covertly under clothes. It might not stop every spell (certainly, it wouldn't stop a Killing Curse), but it would help protect the Boy Who Lived nevertheless. Draco had sent Dobby to order it, from a relatively unknown store he'd managed to hear about in Wales. Draco didn't want his parents to know. As much as it pained him to admit it, it would be safer. The shirt would do the most good if no one knew Harry was wearing it. And if no one (say, _Lucius Malfoy?_ ) could spill the secret to, I don't know, _the Dark Lord?_

"Oh, thanks, Draco?" Harry said, sounding confused as he unfolded the item from it's wrapping and held it up against himself. Clearly the boy hadn't realised its purpose, and was thinking it was just a slightly odd fashion choice.

"Is that body armour?" Hermione asked, clearly getting it.

"Armour?" Ron asked confused. "No, it's clearly dragon scale, not metal."

"Yes, but it's protective though, isn't it."

"Well yes, dragon scale is notably tough, and resistant to spell fire."

"It'll make me resistant to spell fire?" Harry asked.

"Not resistant. Not to all spells anyway. So don't use it as an excuse to go running into danger. For a start, it'll only protect you if the spell hits the parts the shirt's covering for a start. But I thought it could come in handy."

"It'd have been handy if you'd been wearing it at duelling club!" Ron announced, not noticing Sirius walking into the room behind him.

"What happened at duelling club?" the man asked, seeing a troubled look cross the other children's faces at mention of the incident.

"Oh, well, it was just a bit of an accident. It was fine, no real harm done..." Harry started.

"What happened?"

"I mixed up my spells and accidently hit Harry with a spell that was more dangerous than I intended."

"What did you do?" The man demanded, turning to focus on Draco. "Did you hurt him?"

"It's fine!" Harry insisted. "Madam Pomprey was able to fix me up, no problem. You can barely see the scar now!"

"Scar?!" Sirius echoed darkly. Slowly, Harry lifted up his shirt to reveal a faint white line stretching from his left hip to right shoulder, interrupted for a short while when his wrist had been in the way. Draco hadn't seen the scar in a while. He'd wondered how it would look now; bold and ghastly, or gone altogether. This was subtle, and might well fade further still (it had been less than a year after all), but a faint reminder would probably remain forever. He swallowed a gulp of guilt. And the worst thing was, the shirt, which had brought this topic up in the first place, even if Harry had owned it then, been wearing it, it probably wouldn't have made a difference. Draco didn't know the ins and outs of the spell (he had only learnt it from Harry using it on him in a previous lifetime after all), but he knew it was dark. It had cut through basilisk skin. It would probably cut through the thin layer of dragon scales like a hot knife through butter.

"Hey, why don't you open my gift, Harry?" Ron suggested, trying to cut through the tension. The boy wasn't always the most emotionally tuned in, but sometimes had a knack for intercepting arguments. _Maybe it's all those brothers? There must have been a fair bit of in-fighting in the Weasley house growing up._ Sirius continued to give Draco a dirty look, but allowed the topic to be dropped. Ron had bought Harry a broomstick maintenance kit.

"You'll want to keep that Firebolt of yours in top condition! I still can't believe you have one!"

"Me neither!" Draco agreed. "I'm so jealous!" [Sirius looked rather smug at this statement, which Draco wasn't surprised at; it was part of the reason he'd said it]. "When we go to Diagon Alley, I'm going to try and persuade mother to buy me one. She won't I imagine, she'll be all ' _you got a new broom last year Draco',_ but a boy's got to hope, doesn't he?" In truth, Draco wasn't that bothered. There was more important things in life than broomsticks. Still, he wouldn't say no to a Firebolt.

"I do hope we're not going to waste the whole trip looking at broomsticks," Hermione complained, "Assuming we are going to meet up at Diagon Alley to do our school shopping together again."

"Not the _whole_ time," Ron replied, "and of course we are. We just need to get our booklists, so we can plan when to go."

"I wonder when they'll come this year?" Hermione wondered out loud.

"It probably depends if Dumbledore has found a new Defence Professor or not for a start," Draco chipped in.

"Well, actually..." Lupin interrupted, having entered the room with a tray of sandwiches, "I was wanting to talk to you kids about that. Professor Dumbledore has offered me the role of Defence Professor."

"You're going to be our new Professor, Mr Lupin?" Hermione asked, in awe.

"I told you Hermione, you can call me Remus. Well, unless I do take the job, then you'll have to call me Professor Lupin when we're at school."

"Do you not want the job?"

"I do..."

"Then you should take it!"

"You can't be worse than the last two teachers we had," Ron added.

" _That's hardly a complement,_ " Harry muttered in his friend's ear.

Lupin looked at Draco questioningly.

_Well, he wasn't the worse teacher we had. And it's not like it's likely we'll get anyone better._

"If you want the job, you should go for it," he told the man, who looked relieved. Even though he was looking a lot less impoverished than Draco recalled from the original timeline (probably Black's doing), it was clear the man wasn't overflowing with employment opportunities ( _that's just another consequence of being a werewolf..._ ). _He must really want this job._

"Thank you. I guess you should all get used to calling me Professor Lupin then."

"You're taking the job?" Sirius asked, entering the room with a plate of sausage rolls.

"I'm taking the job. I'll write to Professor Dumbledore this evening, to let him know, and thank him."

"Yes, well..." Sirius muttered. There was something on his face. A look Draco couldn't quite interpret. Anger? Not at Lupin; the man looked pleased for his friend. At Dumbledore maybe? He'd always assumed Black would be one of the top members of the Dumbledore fan club. _He did leave the man rotting in Azkaban for a decade though, I suppose..._

It wasn't long after that that they received their Hogwarts letters for the year. Draco had forgotten that third years got to go to Hogsmeade, until he found the enclosed permission slip (which he swiftly got his mother to sign). He met up with his friends in Diagon Alley, and they went around the shops chaperoned by Sirius (who refused to let Harry out of his eye-line), and mother (who mainly just seemed to be sticking with them to annoy her cousin). The trip was relatively uneventful (with varying glances being shared between the parental figures, but no actual arguments or physical altercations). The most dramatic part of the day was probably when his friends went to collect their feral textbooks Hagrid had set them for Care of Magical Creatures (not that anyone but Draco knew who the culprit was at this point). Luckily, Draco recalled how to calm the damned books, much to the relief of the salesman at Flourish and Blotts', who had been despairing about the number of books that had been destroyed by in-fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think it's about time we start getting on with the plot. So they'll be heading back to Hogwarts next chapter (or that's the plan, anyway). Can't promise when it'll be (because I'm away next week, and I finally hit inspiration again for a novel I'm writing), but hopefully will only be a week or two.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just started re-reading the book (hadn't done so far as didn't really think it would be relevant for the summer since Harry's no longer at the Dursleys). So I've only just remembered that The Weasleys were meant to win the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw. So let's just say it's another consequence of the time line changing, shall we?  
> Also, Hermione never got Crookshanks. I was wondering about rectifying that this chapter, but figured I don't really need him for the plot so didn't bother (after all, it's only going to make a plot hole when I forget about him).

The summer sped away, and soon it was nearly time to return to Hogwarts. Draco was looking forwards to this year. Sure, he was apprehensive; he had very little clue what was going to happen in this new timeline. But it felt like a fresh start. An opportunity. To rest, enjoy, train. To push the mission back in his mind slightly and not have to worry about deadly peril for once.

Of course, peaceful wasn't a word that fit his new life. And so this year wasn't fated to be either.

The day before he was due to return to Hogwarts, Draco got up late, enjoying the last lie-in he would be having for a while. So whilst most of the population was reacting in shock to the headline of the Daily Prophet, gossiping and worrying all about it, Draco was sleeping soundly. So it wasn't until Draco sat down for a very late breakfast, grabbing the nearby newspaper absent-mindedly for some casual reading, that he heard the news.

**PETTIGREW ESCAPES AZKABAN**

_What the fuck!?_

His attention grabbed, and breakfast forgotten, Draco dived into the article. The fucking rat had escaped, somehow. It wasn't clear from the article how ( _probably through some kind of Ministry incompetence)_. But what was clear, the rat was free. And fate was fucking with Draco.

So much for a chill year. So much for having dealt with the rat. So much for thinking that his changes might actually be effective, and stop the Dark Lord returning. Because no doubt, this bullshit would end up leading to Lord Fucking Snake-Nose's comeback. Pettigrew had been involved somehow last time. And though the man seemed rather incompetent, you'd just bet he ended up being essential somehow. The man had successfully faked his death for a decade. Hid his involvement with the Dark Lord. And now escaped a supposedly inescapable prison. He must have some kind of skills.

The paper had started speculating what Pettigrew was going to do now. Was he going to help other Death Eaters escape? _(Oh please, fuck no!_ Draco did not fancy the return of his batshit crazy aunt and her loser husband and their sadistic pals). Was he going to come after Potter for helping lock him away? _Oh shit, and me? Does he know I'm responsible for outing his disguise?_

The atmosphere at platform 9 3/4 was rather subdued. Draco's parents were both sticking close to him as they walked through the crowds. They seemed worried. _Maybe they're worried Pettigrew will come after me for helping put me away. Maybe they're worried he's still all pro-Voldemort and will hate me for being team-Potter. Or maybe father thinks Pettigrew will be angry at him for denying Voldemort and riding it out in the aftermath of the war, and will want to punish him for turning against their Lord._

Draco's parents weren't the only ones that looked worried. A lot looked rather reluctant to let go of their children. To be honest, they probably needed to get their priorities in order. Sure, there was an escaped criminal about. But he'd been running free for years (even in that very school) prior to his jailing. And at the death-trap of an educational establishment that was Hogwarts, there were many worse things they should really be worrying about that could befall their precious offspring.

Draco spotted Harry and Sirius, and started to jog over towards them. Sirius stepped protectively in front of Harry, aggressively staring Draco down.

"Draco!" Harry called, gently pushing his Godfather out of his way so he could see his friend. "Have you heard the news!?"

"Have I heard...!? Who hasn't!?"

"I can't believe it! I can't believe he's free. After everything! After what he did..."

"He won't be free for long. The aurors will catch him," _Fat chance of that,_ but it seemed his friend needed some reassurance.

"Not if I have anything to do with it..." Sirius muttered menacingly.

"Sirius, promise me you won't go after him!" Harry begged, turning to face the man, "We've been through this! I can't afford to lose you too!"

"You won't. That rat won't get the better of me again," the man grimaced, but he did appear somewhat cowed by the boy's emotion manipulation (including some quality puppy eyes).

"Harry! Draco!" Hermione's voice interrupted. She sounded noticeably lighter than the rest of the atmosphere of the station. Her parents looked less concerned too, but somewhat confused by the tension that was palpable in the air.

"Do you think she knows?" Harry whispered in Draco's ear. Draco looked at the girl, assessing her, her body language, her facial expressions.

"Yes. But don't say anything anyway. Not here."

The girl in question came flying at them, wrapping them in a hug.

"Honestly Hermione, it's like you haven't seem them in months. You met up a couple of weeks ago," her father chuckled.

"I've still missed them!"

"And we'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too!" she exclaimed, looking to the man to check he wasn't offended. Draco could read many things on the man's face: love, pride, amusement, sorrow, pain. Offence was not one of them. "I'll write to you this evening!"

"I look forwards to reading about your day. And your adventures. Have a good term. Be safe, stay out of trouble. Study hard, but remember to have fun!"

"I will!"

Hermione and her parents said a final goodbye before the couple headed off, leaving as the kids climbed onto the train. Sirius and Draco's parents on the other hand had not made any attempt to leave. Draco decided to drop the hint by saying goodbye to his parents. He even permitted his father to hug him. Things were still awkward between them. Draco would never see the man in the same way as he had when he was a naïve kid. But he would always love him. He was his father.

Sirius still didn't seem to want to let Harry leave, even when the guard announced the train was about to leave. Mother started whispering something in his ear. _I wonder what's that about._ Draco didn't dawdle to ponder, taking the opportunity to drag his friend away from his overbearing godfather. They were just wandering down the train, trying to find an empty compartment, when Ron caught them up, dragging his old trunk behind him and gasping for breath.

"Hi... guys..." he gasped.

"Ron! What happened to you?"

"He's terribly unfit," his sister answered, poking her head out from behind him. She looked slightly out of breath herself, but nothing compared to her brother.

"Well, sorry if I didn't want to miss the train two years running!" he snarked back.

"I had to run for the train too, don't you forget! Yet I've managed not to look like I've been hit with some kind of mortal curse." Ron looked like he was going to argue back again, but Hermione interrupted.

"Shall we find somewhere to sit down?" She led them off down the corridor. Ginny stuck with them. The girl was looking much better than last year, more confident and comfortable, which Draco was pleased to see. It was his father's fault she'd ended up in the mess, after all.

In the next carriage, they came across a compartment with only one person in. Hermione paused outside, looking to them in question. Draco made the decision, opening the door.

"Luna! How are you? Mind if we join you?" The girl looked up from her magazine, gazing at them, clearly considering the question.

"I'm well, thank you. No, I don't mind."

"Good to hear." He lugged his trunk up into the luggage rack, taking Hermione's from her and doing the same. "Ginny, pass me your trunk."

"Who says I'm sitting with you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, clear off if you're not," her brother replied. "Here, put mine up there, would you?"

"Normally I'd say no, do it yourself. But considering you still look like the extra exertion might kill you, I'll make an exception this once." Ron frowned, but passed his trunk over. Soon they were all sat down; Draco, Harry and Ron on one bench and Luna, Ginny and Hermione on the other.

"Did you here about Pettigrew's escape? I can't believe it!" Hermione gasped.

"I know! I was hoping I could forget he ever existed and that whole nightmare with Scabbers was exactly that," Ron replied. "But no, he has to escape. And now he might murder us all in our beds."

"He's not going to murder us, he'll be too busy," Luna commented, totally calm and confident.

"What?"

He's run away to live in the sewers and rule a rat kingdom."

"Where did you hear that?" Hermione asked. Luna gestured to the magazine on her lap.

"Oh, the Quibbler, that figures..." Hermione muttered. Draco realised he was going to have to interrupt her quickly, before she put her foot in it and insulted the magazine, and by extension, Luna's father.

"Who was your father's source for that article?" Draco asked.

"I don't know. I could ask him if you want?"

"Please. I would like to know everything I can about his escape. We have a, let's say... _vested interested."_

"Wait, what?" Hermione asked.

"Well, after helping put the man in jail, I for one would like him to return there."

"Not that. What was that about Luna's father."

"He's the editor of the Quibbler. Didn't you know?" _No, she didn't._

"No. That's... interesting. Are you interested in journalism, Luna?"

"Maybe, I haven't decided yet. Life's too interesting to rule things out too early, isn't it?"

"So true," Draco agreed, partially sarcastically, but also feeling the truth in her statement. Not everyone got a second chance at living their life, after all. It was important to make the most of it.

Eventually the topic moved on. They started updating each other about their summers, mentioning things they'd missed last time they met.

"Oh, I met your aunt by the way Draco," Harry announced. Draco had only been half-listening, but suddenly his attention was caught.

"What!? Where!? Are you okay?"

"Yes...? I'm fine," Harry replied, looked confused and concerned about Draco's panic. "Sirius invited her round."

"He did!? Why!?"

"Because he thought it was time they reunited?"

"Really!? But she's a psychopath! And in Azkaban! Did she escape too!?"

"What? No, she's not in Azkaban. They lost touch because Sirius was. And because she fell out with the family when she decided to marry Ted."

_Ted?_

"OH!" Draco gasped in realisation. "You're talking about Andromeda!"

"Well yes. Who did you think we were talking about?"

"Bellatrix!"

"Who's Bellatrix?"

"Has Sirius not mentioned her?"

"No..."

"Bellatrix is my other aunt. My crazy, evil, Death Eater aunt, who's supposed to be serving a life sentence in Azkaban."

"Your aunt's a Death Eater?"

"Yes. She's an evil bitch, and I hope she rots in that hellhole." Draco very much meant that. If he never had to meet her in this lifetime, that would be great.

"Why did you think Harry was talking about her?" Ron asked.

"Because I'd forgotten about Andromeda. Mother doesn't have anything to do with either of her sisters."

"Why?"

"Because one's batshit crazy, and one fell out with the rest of the family."

"Then why did you think of Bellatrix, if your mother doesn't have anything to do with her?"

"Because when it comes to estranged aunts, it's safer to be aware of the dangerous one.

"So what's Andromeda like?" Hermione asked

"She seemed nice enough. A little uptight maybe. Things still felt a bit awkward between her and Sirius. They both have trouble with family," Harry replied.

"Why did she fall out with the family?"

"Because she ran off and married Ted," Draco answered, before Harry could. "Ted's a Muggleborn, and she knew that would upset the bigoted Black family values."

"The family disowned her?"

"Well, she disowned them. But considering Sirius' mother tried to disown him for not behaving like a 'proper Black' should, you could argue she jumped before she was pushed."

Hermione looked like she had strong opinions on that, but was interrupted by the train suddenly decelerating.

"We can't be there yet!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, we haven't eaten lunch yet!" Ron added.

They looked out of the window, trying to figure out where they were. It had been getting slowly dingier and wetter throughout the morning, but now it so murky you couldn't see their surroundings at all.

"Oh no..." Draco muttered.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

_Why? Why is this happening again?_

"Dementors."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being longer than I intended. I was thinking I'd cover the Dementors in this chapter, but the dialogue ended up longer, so I thought this seemed a good point to end the chapter.  
> Also, I'm not sure what the reaction to Pettigrew's escape will be. The plot isn't going to be just a repeat of the book, but I wanted to keep some elements (including a homage to the title).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, with my highly inconsistent upload schedule, I'm back! I couldn't wait to start writing about Dementors! The next chapter might be in a few days, or a few weeks, who knows!?
> 
> As you might be able to tell, there's some direct quotes from the book this chapter.

_I fucking hate dementors._

The train came to a stop and the lights flickered out.

"What's Dementors?" Ron asked, sounding worried. Draco could hear the boy clambering around the carriage, trying to get to the window. His sister started bickering with him as he accidently kicked her leg.

"Dementors are creatures formed of darkness. They feed on misery, and try to eat your souls," Luna spoke, her voice ethereal; fear, and wonder, and mystery.

"That's... surprisingly accurate," Draco commented. "I don't suppose anyone can produce a Patronus?"

"What's a Patronus?" Harry asked.

_Damn it._ Was it too much to ask for Harry to be able to pull out his legendary Patronus? But of course, it was this year that lead to him learning it, wasn't it? Draco thought back, and remembered hearing about Potter having a bad reaction to the Dementors on the train. In fact, he recalled doing impressions of Potter fainting like a damsel in distress.

_Oh shit. If Harry responds badly to Dementors, and none of us can produce a Patronus, what's going to happen? What if my changes to the timeline have fucked everything? What if we all get our souls sucked?_

It was getting colder and colder in the carriage. The windows were starting to frost up.

"I'm going to go and get help," Hermione announced, fake confidence in her voice. Draco heard her stand up and start opening the compartment door.

"No, Hermione! Don't..." Draco began, but it was too late.

In the darkness, they could just make out a cloaked figure, standing in the doorway. Hermione tried to close the door again, but a grey, dead-looking hand held it open. She stumbled backwards, falling onto Ginny, as a cold fear overcame them all.

They were all going to die. Worse. They were all going to lose their souls. Draco had failed. After all his efforts, his good intentions, he'd made everything so much worse. It all ended here. His life, his friends' lives, wizard-kinds' hopes. They all ended here, at the mercy of Dementors.

Draco was woken from his nightmares by a sharp slap to the face. He opened his eyes as the lights in the carriage flickered back on.

"You with us, Malfoy?" Ginny Weasley asked, holding her hand out, ready to slap him again.

"Yes, yes," Draco quickly insisted, brushing her hand out of the way before she hit him again. He sat himself up in his seat so he could take in the room. He felt the familiar rattling under him as the train started up again. Luna was sat across from him, eyeing him like he was some kind of puzzle. Ginny stepped back away from him, instead turning towards her brother and Hermione who were leaning over something on the floor.

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione asked. A slapping noise could be heard, followed by a vague grown from the floor. Draco watched as his friend was hauled back onto his seat.

"Are you ok?" Ron asked the boy.

"Yeah. What happened? Where's that- that thing? Who screamed?"

"That was Draco," Ron replied. Draco went red.

"No. No, it was a girl. It was a girl's voice I heard," Harry insisted.

"Apparently you scream like a girl, mate," Ron nervously smirked at Draco, trying to lighten the mood.

_What happened? I never reacted like this before._ Sure, Draco didn't like Dementors. No one did. But he'd never reacted worse than average before. Not unlike Potter. _I guess I'd had less trauma last time I met a Dementor though..._

"Is everyone alright in here?" a voice from the doorway asked. A tall black boy was stood there. He looked like he was probably a sixth or seventh year. Draco had the feeling the boy was a Ravenclaw, but couldn't name him.

"I... think so," Harry answered. "What happened."

"Dementors on the train. I don't know why. Thank Merlin I decided to learn the Patronus charm over the summer. I thought it might earn me some bonus points on my Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWTs."

"You produced a Patronus?" Hermione asked

"Yes. It wasn't very impressive. It wasn't even corporal really. I haven't found my Patronus form yet. But luckily it seemed to scare the Dementor away."

"Thank you. You saved us, ...?" The boy seemed to understand her question.

"Webber. Tyrone Webber."

"Thank you, Webber," Draco replied.

"Glad I could help. I best go check on the other compartments. You should all eat some chocolate. I read it helps after Dementor exposure." With that, the boy left.

Lovegood produced a large bar out of chocolate out of a nearly invisible pocket in her dress, and started sharing it around.

"What happened?" Harry asked again, between bites of chocolate.

"That thing, the... _Dementor?._.. it stood there and looked around. Well, I think it did. I couldn't see its face. But then you went sort of rigid and fell on the floor and started twitching. I thought you were having a fit or something. It was awful. Draco was screaming. And I felt like I'd never be happy again. Then... Webber... he came by, and fired some vague glowy ball of light from his wand at it, and it kind of floated away."

"It was horrible," Ginny added.

"But didn't any of you- fall off your seats?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"No," Ron replied. "But Draco passed out too. And he was screaming."

"Ok, yes I was screaming!" Draco retorted. "Can we maybe stop mentioning that?" His friends looked slightly chastised. "Harry, look, Dementors feed off misery and bad memories. And I guess with everything that's happened, you have a lot of bad memories buried in there for Dementors to feed off. It's not something to be embarrassed about."

"Then why did you react so badly?" Ron asked. "No offence, but hasn't your life been pretty... privileged?" His sister kicked him in the ankle for his lack of tact.

Draco was saved from answering by the arrival of the food trolley.

"Oh, good. We'll take a few dozen chocolate frogs please," he told the witch manning the trolley.

"They're a popular choice today," she commented, passing over a large heap of the treats.

"Should we not get something more substantial to have for lunch?" Hermione asked.

"Fine. We'll take a dozen pumpkin pasties too." Draco paid for the food then handed them out amongst the group.

They ate in silence for a while. They all felt better with full bellies, the warm pasties and smooth chocolate fighting off the Dementor-caused chill. Draco felt comfortable enough to objectively discuss Dementors, and share their knowledge about them.

"Dementors guard Azkaban," Hermione told them. Harry looked upset by this.

"So Sirius was around those things all the time? For all those years? No wonder he doesn't like to talk about his time there..."

"He's free now mate," Ron consoled him, "And that's what matters."

"But so is Pettigrew," Ginny remarked.

"And that's probably why the Dementors were here," Draco added.

"What!?" Hermione asked

"The Ministry have probably got it into their ridiculous heads that Pettigrew's going to try and get into Hogwarts. So they've sent those things. Because we weren't already in enough danger at that school..."

"You think there'll be Dementors at school?" Harry worried.

"I very much hope not. But I get a horrible feeling that there will be."

Sure enough, as they rode the Thestral-led carriages up to the school, they spotted a pair of the cloaked nightmares flanking the gates. Draco forced himself to recall happy memories as they passed by them, not wanting a repeat of earlier. Harry went pale and sweaty, pinching his eyes closed, but didn't pass out again.

Draco was glad when he left his friends to join the Slytherin table that news of his reaction to the Dementors hadn't got around. He had been aiming to continue to build his reputation amongst his house, and a sign of weakness this early in the year would really counteract that.

During his speech, Dumbledore alluded to the presence of the Dementors and their appearance on the train, announcing that they were present on 'Ministry of Magic business'.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises- or even Invisibility Cloaks," [ _two guesses who that comment's aimed at..._ ]. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you." _What bullshit. We gave them 'no reason to harm us' on the train, and yet they still tried to suck out our souls!_ Why was Dumbledore even allowing the things onto school grounds? _Surely he can't think they're a good idea!?_

Dumbledore moved on from the Dementors to announcing the two new teachers; Lupin and Hagrid. The first was met by a rather lukewarm reception except by Harry, Ron and Hermione (and a few confused Gryffindors near them, who joined in their enthusiastic applause). The latter got a warmer welcome, from the whole of Gryffindor in particular. The Slytherins seemed rather nonplussed by Lupin, and unimpressed by Hagrid.

"I wonder what that oaf will be like at teaching us?" Pansy commented.

"I've heard he's very knowledgeable about magical creatures," Draco told her, "albeit a bit too fond of the dangerous ones. As long as you keep a decent amount of caution, you should have a good class."

"Are you not taking Care of Magical Creatures Draco?" Goyle asked.

"No. I'm rather fond of my limbs, thanks."

"You just said we'd have a good class?"

"You probably will. But I don't fancy risking it, thanks."


	9. Chapter 9

Draco met his friends after breakfast the next morning, as it turned out they had their first class of the day together; divination (except Hermione, who had Arithmancy). Draco had the feeling the Slytherins weren't with the Gryffindors for Divination in the original timeline, but there had been at least some changes to who was taking what, so maybe that was why. It took him longer than he'd like to admit to find the Divination classroom, considering he'd had nine years at Hogwarts. Though, Harry and Ron would probably be still wandering around now if they'd had to find the place on their own, and who knows where Crabbe and Goyle would have ended up if they'd not followed Draco. Draco was annoyed that Zabini had beaten them there, when he was sure the boy was still eating his breakfast when they'd left the hall.

The Divination classroom was... not what Draco expected. Sure, he'd heard rumours about Trelawney, and seen the frankly embarrassing show she put on when Umbridge tried to kick her from the castle, but the room certainly had... an aesthetic. Lamps draped with scarves (probably a fire-risk), little armchairs, and shelves stacked with all sorts of tat and cliché psychic paraphernalia.

"Welcome," she greeted them, flouncing out of the shadows, "How nice to see you in the physical world at last." _Great. Another person who wants to challenge Snape and Dumbledore in the 'Most Melodramatic Motherfucker' contest._ She then went into a dramatic waffley monologue about Divination and how it was a "gift", throwing in a couple of bogus predictions along the way. Draco felt a little sorry for Longbottom when the woman predicted his grandmother's ill-health; quite frankly, a cruel thing for a teacher to say to a pupil in order to try and impress the class, particularly considering how much the boy relied on his grandmother after what happened to his parents. On the other hand, Draco laughed out loud when Trelawney told the Gryffindor Patel twin to "beware a red-haired man" and the girl couldn't move her chair away from a rather startled looking Ron quick enough.

Trelawney had clearly eyed Longbottom as an easy mark, as she used him again as an opportunity to show off, this time realising the boy might well break a teacup, particularly when nervous and triggered. Draco found himself surprised that this made him quietly angry inside. He'd dealt out plenty of shit to the boy in his first lifetime. Maybe it was that he'd seen the boy could turn into a half-decent wizard eventually (killing Voldemort's fucking monstrous snake was pretty badass after all), and knew that the boy just needed to gain some confidence in himself (which would be easier if people stopped putting him down all the time). Draco could see, even at this point in the timeline, the boy was less petrified of Snape than he had been (probably helped by the fact he and Draco had ended up being Potions partners, and the latter had prevented any major explosions from occurring).

Draco grabbed Ron as his partner for the tealeaf reading (thinking he could have some fun predicting futures for him), and nudged Harry in Longbottom's direction, trusting him not to fuck up and upset the already nervous boy anymore (it would be a good exercise to see if Harry had learnt any subtly yet).

Draco's predictions for Ron included that he would be on a quidditch team (a good opportunity to drop the idea again and boost his friend's confidence) and that he would be mauled by a Hippogriff (maybe that would be enough to make them all wary enough of the beasts to prevent anyone else being attacked by them whilst Draco stayed safely away).

Trelawney clearly wasn't done with her 'Melodramatic Motherfucker' audition, and seemed to enjoy herself going all out predicting Harry's death. The class were all rather subdued in light of this as they left the classroom (and Trelawney took the opportunity to make one more stab at Longbottom). Draco on the other hand, was annoyed. Maybe the crazy bitch Umbridge had had the right idea when she tried to sack the woman. She seemed to enjoy making comments to amuse herself or show off, at her pupils' expense, and from what Draco could recall, was a borderline alcoholic. _Just one more problem for the list of what's wrong with this shit-show of a school..._

After lunch, whilst the rest of his friends had Care of Magical Creatures, Draco had his first Muggle Studies class. He didn't know what to expect, entering the classroom filled with weird Muggle gadgets. There weren't many students there when he arrived, a couple of Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuffs... And Theodore Nott.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked him, sitting down in the seat next to him.

"Oh, I don't know, what do you think?" the boy sarcastically retorted.

"You're taking Muggle Studies!?"

"What, you think you're the only Slytherin allowed to take the class?"

"But why?"

"I could ask you the same question." Draco didn't reply for a few seconds, thinking what to say. Nott answered for him. "Let me guess, you're here to piss your daddy off? And build on that whole _conservative, modern_ impression you're trying to give off?"

"Is that why you're here?""

"Maybe I'm just here to learn."

"And why would you want to learn about Muggles."

"Draco, Draco, naivety is never wise. Whether someone is your friend or your enemy, you should know all you can about them." _And which, I wonder does Nott consider Muggles to be? And where does he place me?_ "What do you know of nuclear weapons?" the boy asked, in somewhat a non-sequitur.

"New-clear weapons? Nothing. Why?"

"Exactly."

They didn't have chance to say any more, because Burbage entered the classroom. Draco had seen her a few times since he'd watched her die, but his brain still went there for a second. This class was going to be... interesting.

When he entered the Great Hall for dinner, he found Ron and Harry already sat at the Gryffindor table, looking rather glum.

"Hey guys. Where's Hermione?"

"She's in the hospital wing."

_Oh shit. Please don't say that damn Hippogriff gored her!_

"What!? What happened? Is she okay?"

"I don't know, hopefully. She fell." [ _Wait, what?_ ] "We're going to go to the Hospital Wing to see her as soon as we've eaten."

"I'll come with you."

"You'd best go eat something then. We'll be off in a few minutes."

Draco headed across to the Slytherin table.

"So I guess you've heard about what happened to Granger then?" Pansy greeted him. "That girl has one hell of a scream on her. Maybe that'll teach her not to be such a teachers' pet."

"What happened?" Draco demanded.

"Well, there were Hippogriffs see," Crabbe began. "And no one wanted to go near them after you'd foreseen Weasley being gored by one. Granger got annoyed and said that Divination was bullshit..."

"I don't think she said bullshit..." Goyle interrupted.

"Well, maybe she said rubbish or something. But anyway, she volunteered to meet the Hippogriff when no one else would. It was all going alright until Professor Hagrid suggest she went for a fly on it. It took off, and she fell off."

"Was she okay?"

"Relax Malfoy," Pansy sniped, "your Muggle girlfriend's just fine. She just broke her arm or something. Madam Pomfrey will have had her fixed up in two minutes. She was just being a baby."

That was when Harry and Ron arrived at the table, thankfully not having heard Pansy's comment (if the lack of violence was anything to go by anyway).

"You coming Draco?" Ron asked, giving the other Slytherin's dark looks. Draco gave his mainly uneaten meal a sad look and stood from the table. _I guess I could always break into the kitchens later anyway. Or maybe I could have Dobby bring me something. Hey, that's one advantage to having my own elf!_

When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, and got past Madam Pomfrey's gatekeeping, they found Hermione sat up in a bed, her arm in a sling, finishing eating a meal one-handed. She looked slightly frustrated by the task, but otherwise fine.

"Guys! Hi!"

"Hermione! How are you?" Ron asked, dashing to her side.

"I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey's fixed my arm right up. She says I need to keep this sling on for another hour, but then I should be fine to leave."

"Thank Merlin. After Draco's prediction, I thought you were going to die."

"I told you all then, there's no such thing as predicting the future!"

"But Draco saw Hippogriffs..."

"He said you'd be gored by a Hippogriff. Were you?"

"No, but..."

"Am I you, and was I gored?"

"No, but..."

"So Draco's prediction was rubbish, wasn't it? No offence Draco."

"Oh, Hermione, you wound me," Draco sarcastically replied, "My dreams of being the next Cassandra are shattered."

"So are you really okay?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine. I'm not in a rush to ride a Hippogriff again though. I like both my feet on the ground."

"Not a great first lesson for Hagrid, was it?" Ron commented.

"I do hope he's alright!" Hermione gushed. "They won't sack him, will they? It wasn't really his fault."

"I mean, it kind of was..." Draco muttered under his breath, "But of course they won't!" he reassured his friends on seeing their faces.

"We should go see him!" Harry suggested.

"We're not allowed outside after dinner! It's far too early in the year to be getting into trouble already. And in case you haven't forgotten, there are Dementors out there."

"But he's probably really upset!"

"We are not going out there. We'll see him tomorrow. If you all try and sneak out to see him tonight, I'll stun you and tie you to the beds in here. Don't think I won't."

"What's got into you?"

"I think we've had enough danger for one day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, irregular chapter posting. Get used to it I guess...  
> I had a few notes I wanted to say whilst writing this chapter:  
> \- I wanted the Slytherins and Gryffindors to be in the same Divination class, so they are.  
> \- I must admit, when I used the word "flouncing" for Trelawney's entrance, I was thinking about the "Background Slytherin" comics, and their great example of melodramatic teachers.  
> \- I didn't intend to go into a rant against Trelawney and in defence of Neville, but it just sort of happened.  
> \- The idea of Theo Nott taking Muggle Studies is partly taken from another fic (I can't remember which one unfortunately). Whether he's there to appear conservative, out of curiosity, or whether he thinks muggles are a threat (or a combination of reasons) we'll have to wait and see.  
> \- It upset me writing "dinner" in this chapter, (in my opinion dinner=lunch, and the evening meal is tea), but dinner is the word used in the books, and as a Southerner, likely the word Draco would use for his evening meal.  
> \- I wasn't planning on Hermione being injured in this chapter, but it just kind of happened as a logical chain of events after Draco's Hippogriff prediction


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended to include more in this chapter, but thought instead I might as well post what I've written now, rather than keeping you waiting any longer. So it's a quite short chapter this time.

They ended up going to see Hagrid at lunchtime the next day. Draco stared longingly at the food in the Great Hall as they walked past (he was **not** going to eat any food the half-giant offered them). The oaf seemed quite mopey, and practically grovelled at Hermione, despite her reassurances that she was fine, and it wasn't necessary. He did reveal that he had indeed not been sacked (throwing out a large amount of arguably undeserved praise for Dumbledore), although he had been instructed to make his lessons safer.

As they headed back up to the school, Draco was sure the Dementors were staring at them. Whether or not the monsters actually had eyes _t_ _o_ stare, he wasn't sure, but he could feel a shiver travel down his spine. Luckily they didn't venture outside the forest to follow them, but still, Draco was glad when they reached the castle again (and if anyone tried to claim he sped up his pace, he would just claim that he was just worried he would be late for class).

The next day, Draco had his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the werewolf. He made sure he had his silver knife on him (he was planning on keeping it on him the whole time the man was present in the school; he might not have attacked anyone last time, but timelines can change, and it was better to be save than sorry). He'd been busy making sure he was prepared to face Lupin, but hadn't thought much about what the class would be. Not until the man started leading them to the staff room.

Boggart.

_Aw, hell no!_

Draco did not want to face a boggart. He hadn't enjoyed it last time, and his pathetic fears from his pampered childhood (which at this point in the original timeline, had been basically trauma-free) seemed pale in comparison to whatever nightmare the creature could transform into now.

Lupin by now had started explaining to the class about the lesson.

"No!" Draco suddenly interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Lupin asked, sounding only mildly peeved to be interrupted by a student.

"I'm not facing a boggart." The man stared at him for a few seconds.

"I'm not sure whether to give you House Points for correcting identifying the creature I was alluding to, or to take them for the interruption. We'll call it even, shall we?"

"No offence, Professor. I do not want to cost my House Points. But I will not be exposing my fears for all to see. I would imagine that my classmates may well feel the same."

"Again, I shall forgo taking points from you, as you have explained what a boggart does. A boggart is a dark creature, that can shapeshift into the form of whatever it thinks will frighten its victim. Yes, it might be scary to face a creature that can take the form of your fears, but this is Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that is what you're here to learn. How to defend yourself against dark things. And today, you will learn a spell to defend against boggarts."

"Yes, it's all well and good, learning to shout _'riddikulus'_ at a boggart, but surely there's a way to do it without exposing our fears to everyone."

"You scared Malfoy?" Nott asked. Not necessarily in a taunting voice (like a younger Draco would have used), more... _curious._

"Well, we're all scared of something. And we're all Slytherins. We don't just go giving people access to our weaknesses. That would be foolish."

"Fine," Lupin interrupted. The man was looking rather exasperated by now. Draco was pretty sure he heard him muttering about how he hadn't had this problem with the Hufflepuffs ( _pah, of course Hufflepuffs wouldn't care about letting each other know their weaknesses_ ). "How about you each face the boggart one at a time, with the rest waiting outside?" The class vaguely nodded in agreement.

Lupin taught them the _riddikulus_ charm, then sent them all outside the staff room to wait for their turn.

Draco stood nervously, waiting for his go. What form would his boggart take now? What would it reveal about him? What was he most afraid of? Voldemort? Probably not. He didn't like the monster, but he thought it was as much derision as fear. Dementors? He'd reacted badly to them after all. But he didn't feel that would be it. Werewolves? Wouldn't that be ironic, considering the teacher. But no. He could cope being around Lupin after all. Werewolves weren't his greatest fear.

Too quickly, Lupin was calling out Draco's name. He followed him back into the room. After a quick check to see if Draco was ready ( _as he ever will be..._ ), Lupin opened the wardrobe and let the boggart out. Draco pointed his wand, and held his wand in anticipation.

He wasn't ready for the sight that met him. Swiftly, almost quicker than his eyes could focus, the boggart flittered between forms. Diggory's corpse hitting the ground, looking like he did when Potter appeared back with it at the end of the Triwizard tournament. Dumbledore flying backwards through the air in a flash of green light. Burbage spinning in mid-air, the life leaving her eyes. Crabbe falling backwards into fire. On and on, dead faces in one long succession. Even Lupin's itself. Draco didn't know whether the man had noticed it or not. Eventually, he seemed to run out of real memories, but the nightmare didn't end. Instead, the boggart took the form of his family, his friends. Draco couldn't even think of trying to fight it. He just watched in horror.

It had probably only been seconds, but it felt like an eternity, when Lupin gently pushed Draco aside, to face the boggart himself. The current corpse disappeared, to be replaced by a small orb floating in the air ( _the moon,_ Draco realised later, when he was thinking more clearly and reflecting on the situation), which the man drove back into the wardrobe.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Lupin was looking at Draco, with shock, and also... pity? That partially awoke him from his funk. _I don't want your pity!_ He pointed his wand, which he still held vaguely aloft in his shaking hand, at the man.

"You won't be telling anyone about what you've just seen. Or everyone will find out your... _furry little secret!_ " The man seemed to giggle slightly in response, increasing Draco's ire. The man quickly held up his hands in defence.

"Sorry. It's just that... well, that's almost how Sirius describes it. But don't worry, I won't be telling anyone. Not because you're blackmailing me, which you really shouldn't be doing to a teacher, but I'll let it slide this once. But because your fears are your own private business. No matter how... _disturbing..._ they might be. But I really think we should talk about what happened."

"No thank you. Let's never speak of this again. Can I go?" Lupin looked reluctant, but nodded. He led Draco back out, and called Nott in in his place.

Draco vaguely heard his name being shouted.

"Draco!" Pansy shouted, practically in his ear.

"What?"

"I was asking, what was your boggart?"

"There was a reason we all went in there individually. Let's not make it for nothing, shall we?"

"Mine was a hippogriff," Goyle announced into the silence.

Draco was glad when the lesson was over. _That had not gone well._ Not only had he shown weakness in front of Lupin (who he'd already revealed far too much too when he freaked out on meeting him at the Black house), but also, from a practical standpoint, if he had to fight a boggart, he was screwed. Sure, they weren't creatures Voldemort had utilised last time round, but still, Draco didn't like the idea of being helpless. The defence against boggarts was to make them amusing. How in the name of Merlin could he make that trauma show amusing?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while again! I've been busy at work. Thanks again to everyone who's reading, leaving kudos and comments etc!  
> If you spot any typos/plot holes, feel free to point them out!

Yet again, the Slytherins were paired with the Gryffindors for Potions. Draco was one of the last to arrive. His friends had taken the back row. Draco started to head over to them, but paused when he saw the space next to Longbottom on the row in front. He remembered his thoughts from Divination. (Plus, he wasn't sure if he wanted to partner with Hermione, who also had a space next to her; as much as he liked his friend, she could be a bit of a control freak; Longbottom generally had let Draco take the lead in Potions, all the better for both of them).

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Oh... no, you can if you want," the boy replied, sounding a bit surprised.

"Great."

It was probably for the best. Draco managed to intervene to prevent Longbottom putting too many rat spleens in his potion. The boy still added too much leech juice, but with Draco's advice, they were able to counteract most of the impact with that to produce a half-decent Shrinking Solution in the end.

When Draco caught up with his friends that evening, they told him about their Defence class they'd had that afternoon. It had been Gryffindor's chance to face the boggart. Apparently they'd done the whole thing as a group ( _pah, Gryffindors, wanting to show off their bravery)_ , but not everyone had got a go (which didn't exactly sound fair). Draco was slightly disappointed to hear Hermione and Harry were two that hadn't (he was curious what form their boggarts would take). Apparently Ron's was a spider.

"There was some interesting ones," Ron commented, "Neville's was a creepy looking woman."

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said quietly.

"What?"

"I think it was Bellatrix Lestrange. I could see the family resemblance. I think he must know what she looks like from a newspaper article. That's why she looked kind of... grey."

"What do you mean, family resemblance? Are you saying I look like her?" Draco asked. Draco didn't really think that woman looked like any of them (but maybe that was partly due to his brain wanting to separate her from the rest of his family).

"Not you. But she looked kind of like Andromeda," ( _Oh, well, I guess I can't really remember what she looks like, so I can't argue one way or the other_ ). "I mean, I don't know for sure it was Bellatrix, but, well, it makes sense."

"Why?" Ron asked. _I guess he doesn't know..._

"Well, she attacked his parents."

"She killed them?"

"No, not killed." Harry paused. "But, I don't think we should be talking about this. It's Neville's business."

The topic dropped. There was an awkward silence for a short while, whilst they all tried to think of something else to say.

"Oh, that reminds me. I was meaning to ask about something Nott mentioned in Muggle Studies..."

"...Nott's taking Muggle Studies!?" Ron interrupted.

"Yes. What are... erm... nic-clear weapons?"

"Nuclear weapons?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, I think that might have been it."

"They're bombs. They use the energy from breaking down atoms to create chain reactions that cause a massive explosion. They can kill hundreds of thousands of people. The USA dropped two on Japan during the Second World War."

"What's the Second World War?"

"What!?"

"What's the Second World War?"

"You don't know what the Second World War was?"

"No, that's why I asked."

"How do you not know?" Draco looked around the room. Ron looked as clueless as him. Harry clearly knew what Hermione was talking about, but didn't look as incredulous that Draco didn't know.

"It was a Muggle conflict, I presume?"

"Yes. It was one of the bloodiest conflicts in the history of the Earth."

Hermione went ahead and lectured them for quite a while. Ron looked a bit bored by the end. Draco took care to try and take it all in; it might be useful for Muggle Studies, and maybe life in general. You never knew when knowledge would come in handy. He was starting to see why Nott had decided to take Muggle Studies. It sounded like Muggles were more dangerous than he'd given them credit for.

They were soon into the swing of their new school year. Trelawney continued to try and predict Harry's death (but lay off Longbottom slightly). They studied various dark creatures in Defence Against Dark Arts (which sounded more interesting that the creatures his friends were studying in Care of Magical Creatures; although they should count themselves lucky that at least they didn't have to face Blast-Ended Screwts).

The first Hogsmeade weekend was to be on Halloween. Draco, Harry, Ron and Hermione made plans to spend the day looking around the village. Hermione was particularly excited, as she had never been to the village itself before.

However, their plans we set amok during Potions class in the preceding week. Snape suddenly snapped at Harry for some insignificant thing, announcing that the boy would have to serve a detention. Draco wasn't particularly surprised; it was well in character for Snape. What did surprise Draco was when he was also handed a detention a short while later.

"Potter, Malfoy, come to my office at 10am on Saturday to serve your detentions," Snape instructed at the end of the lesson. _Aha, I think I understand now..._

"But Sir!" Ron protested, "It's the Hogsmeade weekend!"

"Do you want a detention too, Weasley?"

"No Sir."

"Then I suggest you mind your own business and swiftly remove yourself from my classroom, before I decide to give you one."

As they left the class, Harry moaned quietly to Draco about how it wasn't fair, and why did Snape have to be so mean? Draco muttered in agreement, but didn't tell him what he suspected. He didn't think it was pure spite that had made Snape give them the detention; if it had just been Harry, then maybe, but Snape didn't usually give his Slytherin's unwarranted detentions (or often, warranted), even Draco, who almost certainly frustrated the man in this lifetime. He had the feeling that this might have been some scheme of Dumbledore's that he had forced Snape into. Draco was aware that he and Harry were probably the two students most at risk at being targeted by Pettigrew. Dumbledore probably wouldn't want them leaving the "safety" of the castle. Or Harry at least. _I wonder if it was Dumbledore's idea to include me, or whether he only cares about his precious Chosen One?_

For the detention itself, Snape made them spend the first half scrubbing cauldrons, then "kindly" let them sit and work on their potions essay for the second half, until it was too late for them to feasibly head out to Hogsmeade, and they were allowed to finally leave.

They headed over to the Room of Requirement, where they were soon joined by Ron and Hermione, who'd brought them back plenty of sweets from Hogsmeade, then they all went to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast (which, miraculously, went off without major incident for once).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a relatively short, but quick chapter for you today. The next chapter should be with you in the next few days-weeks (who knows?)  
> I hope there's not too many typos left in this; I caught quite a few now, but that's more than usual, so there may be some I've missed.

Snape was covering Lupin's Defence lessons as the full moon came around. He set them an essay on werewolves. _So he definitely knows then. I wonder how many people figure it out from this?_ Maybe not many; Draco hadn't first time round after all, and he was reasonably intelligent (although had been too busy being self-absorbed to notice almost anything right in front of him).

Quidditch season was back, and the first match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. There was a lot of friendly banter between Draco and his friends. Technically the score between their Houses was 1:1 for their time at Hogwarts, but considering none of them played in the first match, Draco could hardly claim that victory. He was determined to be the first to the snitch this time. The day of the match came around, and it was pouring with rain. Draco was soaked through the second he stepped out onto the pitch. He saw Harry squinting around, unable to see anything through his rain-splattered glasses. _Wasn't I going to tell him to get himself a decent pair? One with built in rain-repelling spells perhaps_. Draco had the feeling this pair was probably plain-old Muggle. And maybe not even adjusted correctly to Harry's eyesight. _Sirius really needs to get on this. I'll have to write to him and tell him to get it sorted._ Draco walked over and summoned Harry's glasses off his head. _I guess a simple water-repelling spell will have to do for now..._

"What do you think you're doing!?" the Gryffindor captain, Wood, demanded. Draco rolled his eye, performing the spell on the glasses before popping them back on Harry's head.

"Making it so your Seeker might actually be able to see during the match. You're welcome."

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, a), because Harry's my friend, and I don't want him picking up yet another quidditch-related injury because he couldn't see. And b), because I don't want him to be able to claim that when I beat him, it was only because he was disadvantaged. I'm going to win this game off the back of my own superior skill."

"Malfoy!" Flint yelled, "Stop fraternising with the enemy and get over here!" Draco nodded goodbye to his friend (and Wood, who was still staring at him with a degree of suspicion), and headed over to re-join his team.

The match started. The rain continued to pour, managing to get even heavier. Lightning flashed. They were probably all potentially at risk of being hit by it, but then again, when did child-endangerment ever stop anything? Draco and Harry flew around the pitch. For all his talk beforehand, Draco was starting to not care whether he was the one who caught the snitch or not. He was cold. This sucked, and quite frankly, he would rather be back inside the warm dry castle, rather than flying around in a thunderstorm on a piddly bit of wood, trying to catch a tiny golden ball which could be anywhere.

Draco suddenly started to feel even more cold. _Oh great, I've got hypothermia!_ was his first thought. But then he looked down. Hundreds of Dementors were swarming the pitch. _Oh no! It was this match! And it's happening again!_ Panic started burying deep into his mind. He remembered how the monsters had made him feel on the train, how much worse they affected him this time around. He needed to get away.

Draco turned him broom away from the pitch, away from the Dementors, and flew blindly. His vision was starting to white over, and conscious thought had fled his mind. He was barely aware of tree branches scratching at him as he flew on, just a sense he needed to get away. Eventually he hit a large branch he couldn't dodge and he fell off, luckily only falling a few feet to the ground. He lay there and closed his eyes, needing some time to wrestle back control of his brain.

When he was feeling more sane and opened them again, he found he was no longer alone.

"You were right, Estevan, he does have traces of centaur magics. But why our kind would see fit to imbue a wizard with it, particularly a weak foal as this one appears to be, I do not see," a grey centaur announced. Draco lifted his head, and found that it was addressing the brown centaur he had met in first year.

"We must trust in the fates," the brown centaur (Estevan, apparently) replied. He turned to look down at Draco (who was still lying on the ground), "You must return to your kind, young foal. This forest is dangerous for you at any time, but now more than usual. And we can only escort you part of the way. Those foul creatures lurk around, and we will not approach them."

"It's wizards who brought those things, to defoul our forest," the grey centaur snapped.

"Yes. But you wish them gone, do you not?" Estevan asked Draco.

"Yes."

"Then I wish you success in your endeavour, for your and our sakes. Come, you are injured. I will permit to carry you for a distance, so you may regain your strength, before you must return to your flying branch for the remainder of your journey."

So that's how Draco found himself riding on a centaur, carrying a broomstick, and being glared at by a second centaur who walked along with them. He could just feel the faint numbing effect of the Dementors when they came to a stop, and the centaurs said their farewells (in the usual airy-fairy way). Draco climbed back on his broom, flying a fair way up to hopefully avoid the worst of the impact of the Dementors. He still felt a bit odd as he passed over, but kept it together. As he cleared the trees, he saw a dark figure looking around, a Patronus galloping around him. As Draco got closer, he realised it was Snape. They met eyes, and Draco swore the man looked relived to see him for a second, before the man's face switched back to the more usual disgruntled.

"Malfoy! Where have you been?" he demanded, as Draco flew down to land near him.

"I tried to fly away from the Dementors and accidently ended up in the forest," Draco replied tiredly. He stepped off his broom and stumbled slightly before correcting.

"Hmph. Come, let's get you to the Hospital Wing. We can discuss your foolishness later."

They began the long trudge back up to the school. As they passed the quidditch pitch, Draco realised it was now empty. Snape noticed Draco looking.

"They're all back in the school. The match is over after all."

"Harry caught the snitch?"

"Yes, whilst you were busy flying off in the wrong direction, Potter caught the snitch, whilst taking a swan-dive off his broom no less."

"Harry fell off his broom!?" _Oh shit! How did I forget about that! What if he's hurt!?_ "Is he okay!?"

"Your friend will be fine. He's earnt himself yet another trip to the Hospital Wing, but quite frankly he should be used to that by now."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Draco felt nearly ready to pass out by the time they finally made it to their destination. He caught Snape glancing his way multiple times, his wand out ready to catch him if he fell. He didn't offer help though, waiting for Draco to ask for it, no doubt knowing that he wouldn't.

"Draco!" Hermione shouted as they entered the room, standing and starting to run towards them, only to stop due to the strength of Snape's glare. Harry waved at him from his hospital bed, looking tired but most definitely alive. Ron was sitting at the opposite side to the seat Hermione had abandoned, and looked relived to see Draco in one piece.

"Right," Madam Pomprey announced, bustling in and leading Draco over to a bed on the other side of the room, "you lie down there and let me take a look at you." She started pulling the screens around the bed, shutting Draco's friends out. "Thank you, Severus," she nodded at Snape in dismissal. The man muttered an acknowledgement, in a tone that just about passed for cordial by his standards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had zero intention of including the centaurs in this chapter until just before they turned up. I had wanted to find an opportunity to include them in the story again at some point this year, and this suddenly seemed like a good opportunity.  
> Also, I know in the book, Harry doesn't manage to catch the snitch whilst falling, but I wanted to have the matched concluded, so someone had to, and it's not that hard to believe that the change in circumstances meant the snitch happened to be near him whilst he was falling, meaning he was able to get it.


	13. Chapter 13

Madam Pomfrey insisted Harry needed to stay in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend. Draco could probably have secured an earlier release for himself, but stayed in solidarity with his friend. Pomprey refused to let him move to a bed next to Harry though, and often reprimanded them for "shouting" across the room, leaving Draco with a lot of time on his hands between the stream of visitors (who were mostly there to see Harry, not Draco). Draco took the opportunity to write a letter to Black whilst he remembered, strongly suggesting the man take the boy to get his eyes checked whilst he was home over Christmas, and that it would probably be for the best to get him a general health check-up whilst he was at it (from what Draco had gathered about Harry's time with his Muggle relatives, it didn't sound like Harry's health and wellbeing had been high on their list of priorities).

Draco did get a couple of visitors. Ron and Hermione made sure to come chat to him as well as Harry, even passing messages between them when Pomprey told them off for shouting. His friends had been interested to hear about his sojourn into the forest, and meeting with the centaurs (though of course he didn't mention why the centaurs were interested in him, just making it sound like they happened to take pity on him/wanted him out of their forest). From how they described it and what he could recall, Harry's fall from the broom during the quidditch match had gone rather similar to first time round, except with one important difference; he caught the snitch on his way down.

Draco's other visitor had something to say about that.

"Malfoy. Not dead I see," Flint commented as he sauntered over to Draco's bedside.

"No. You won't need to find yourself a new Seeker," Draco joked.

"Actually, yes I do." Draco's face fell. "You're off the team."

"What?"

"You're off the team."

"Why?"

"Erm, because you're a liability. I knew it was a mistake, picking someone who spends so much time sucking up to Gryffindors."

"I don't _suck up._ They happen to be my friends. I don't see how that's relevant. Sure, I didn't get the snitch this match, but there was extenuating circumstances."

"Potter still managed to get the snitch, even if he did fall off his broom in the process. At least his Gryffindor foolhardiness has some use. Where were you? Fucking off away from the pitch the second those Dementors showed up. No wonder you're not a Gryffindork with your little friends. You're a coward."

"I'm not a coward. And I'm still the second-best Seeker in the school. Yes, Harry might be better, but I'd like to see whoever you manage to find to replace me beat him."

"Maybe they will, because unlike you, they won't be obsessed with trying to suck his..."

Flint didn't get to finish his sentence because Draco had slapped him. Madam Pomprey poked her head out of her office at the noise.

"Is everything alright out here?" she asked, glaring at them suspiciously.

"Everything's fine. Flint here was just leaving."

Flint stomped away, leaving Draco to mope. Harry had seemingly been asleep for the conversation (whether he was, or had just continued to fake it to avoid awkwardness, Draco wasn't certain). Well, this sucks. Draco enjoyed playing quidditch. It was something he was good at. And it was good for his reputation in Slytherin. If they all heard about how he'd been ousted from the team, the carefully earned respect he was starting to build within his House might all shatter. He would certainly have to do some damage control.

_Maybe it's for the best? It certainly does seem more of a danger than I remember it being. How many times have I ended up in the Hospital Wing because of it now? Plus, it means I'll have more free time to work on my mission; you know, why I actually travelled back in time._

Draco decided to take his mind off it by working on properly developing his arguments on why the Dementors had to go. Because that was one thing that was abundantly clear now; the horrors could not be allowed to stay. Surely the fact they had landed Draco and Harry in the Hospital Wing now had to mean something? After all, the Dementors were meant to be there to protect them from Pettigrew, of whom there had been zero sightings anywhere in the vicinity and if the man was smart (which, yes, he almost certainly wasn't), he'd have fled the country by now. Harry and Draco were the two students most likely to be targeted by Pettigrew, and yet they'd be safer without the Dementors presence.

Draco decided to add an addendum to his letter to Sirius about the Dementors. Surely the man mustn't like the things, after his time in Azkaban. Harry might not appreciate Draco telling his Godfather about his trip to the Hospital Wing, particularly if he hadn't already told him himself (which Draco doubted the boy had done), but the more people he could get kicking up a fuss about this, the greater chance he had of actually getting rid of the things.

He also wrote to his mother. She'd set his father on doing something, and may well do something herself, something far more terrifying than the political manipulating his father excelled at.

When the Gryffindor quidditch team arrived to visit Harry, Draco took a leaf from the boy's book and pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to sit there awkwardly whilst they celebrated their victory and planned for the next match. Draco wasn't sure if they'd know whether he'd been kicked off the Slytherin team or not, but he didn't want their looks of pity if they did.

They got released from the Hospital Wing first thing Monday morning.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, as Draco dragged him down a corridor. "The Hall's that way."

"We're not off to the Hall."

"We've still got ages before we need to be in Divination. And I'm in no mood to get there early. I'm sure Trelawney will use this as yet another excuse to spout on about how doomed I am."

"We're not off to Divination. We're off to Dumbledore's Office."

"Why?" Harry asked, surprised.

"So we can tell him that the Dementors need to go."

"What?"

"Don't worry, you don't have to say anything if you don't want. You just stand there, and look sad and heroic." Harry still didn't look convinced. "Look, you're the Boy Who Lived. Dumbledore likes you. He can't have anything happening to you before you've killed Voldemort for him."

"But the Dementors are here to " _keep us safe_ "...supposedly," Harry replied, used finger quotation marks.

"And what a shit job they're doing at that. They need to go. Surely you don't want the Dementors to stay?"

"Oh, hell no,"

"Then that's why we need to insist on this."

"But why now? What about breakfast?"

"Our argument will carry more weight if we're fresh out of the Hospital Wing. If there's no time to eat afterwards, we can always skive Divination."

"We'll get in trouble."

"Not if you tell Dumbledore you're still delicate, and couldn't possibly trek all that way without eating." Draco did a sarcastic impression of Harry fainting, which earnt him a hard wallop on the arm.

"Stop that!" he complained (but with a smirk sneaking out beneath his frown). "Come on, we're here." They'd arrived at the Gargoyle at the bottom of the staircase to Dumbledore's Office. "I don't suppose you know the password..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So arguably this is a filler chapter, because not much of note actually happens. But it covers a few bits and pieces I wanted to include.  
> You may disagree with Draco getting kicked off the quidditch team- I decided that would happen fairly early on in the planning for this year (possibly before I realised how whumpy it is starting to get, but ah well).  
> I'm on a new rota at work with the whole covid crisis going on, so that might mean updates are a bit less often, I'm not sure. But hopefully it won't be too long before the next chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As often seems to happen with my irregular upload schedule, we have a relatively quick update now, but it might be a few weeks until the next one.  
> This chapter seems to have ended up as mainly dialogue, but ah well, at least it's plot-progressing dialogue.  
> Thanks again to everyone for their comments, kudos, bookmarks etc!

It took them a good fifteen minutes to finally guess the password to Dumbledore's Office. Draco was almost ready to give up, because to be honest, naming all those sweets was making him hungry, when they finally stumbled on the correct one (" _Marshmallow"_ ). He wasn't sure if the whole endeavour was worth it or not; Dumbledore listened to what they had to say, and even seemed to agree with them, but muttered vaguely about the Ministry and things being out of his hands, so whether he would actually do anything was another question. He summoned them up some croissants and pumpkin juice before chivvying them off on their way to Divination.

Trelawney started making loud pronouncements about their perilous futures as they walked into the class, but Draco just cut her off, saying he didn't see himself dying this year. She looked irked by his interruption, but chose to instead focus on the fact Draco hadn't mentioned Harry not dying.

"Oh, no, I don't think Harry's going to die this year either. I see him entering some kind of... _inter-school death tournament?_ next year, so that means clearly he can't be about to hop it this year." _I probably shouldn't have said that, but hey, she's pissing me off._ Trelawney looked disappointed by Harry's apparent lack of doom this year, but creepily fascinated by the concept of an inter-school death tournament.

Apparently news had got round that Draco was no longer on the quidditch team, but there was thankfully little reaction. It sounded like Flint had been uncharacteristically subtle in announcing the news, and had refrained from bad-mouthing Draco too badly (maybe out of fear of retribution?). In fact, some people seemed to be under the impression Draco had quit, rather than been fired.

"Why did you quit quidditch, Draco?" Goyle asked over lunch.

"He didn't quit, he was dropped from the team," Nott pointed out.

"Thank you," Draco sarcastically replied.

"What? I'm only speaking the truth."

"Because you're such a crusader for the truth."

"Have I ever lied to you?" _Well... actually?_ Draco thought on that. He really wasn't sure. No obvious examples came to mind.

"You're better off off the team," Zabini commented. "Like I said, there's better things to do with your time than farce around playing quidditch. Surely that last game should have taught you that. Even if the Dementors hadn't shown up, you were still flying around in a thunderstorm, and who in their right mind would volunteer to do that?" _He's got a point._

Draco had decided one thing he needed to do with his new spare time. Hopefully, if his other plans were successful, it wouldn't be necessary, but it would still be a useful skill to learn. Draco was going to learn to produce a Patronus. _How hard can it be? Potter learnt how to do it in our original third year after all._

After Potions class finished, Draco stayed behind. Snape raised his eyebrows at him when he saw him hovering, but Draco just raised his own back and stood his ground. Once the rest of the class had filtered out, the Professor pushed the door to.

"Malfoy. I assume you have something you want to ask me about, and you're not just lurking for no reason."

"I want you to teach me how to produce a Patronus. Sir." It didn't look like that was what Snape was expecting.

"And what makes you think I even can, never mind that I'd be willing to teach you."

"Well, I know you can make a Patronus. I saw it the other day."

"You saw my Patronus?"

"Yes, it was like a goat or something." Snape's face settled a little from apprehensive to derision.

"My Patronus is not a goat."

"Well, I didn't exactly see it close-to. But you can make one. So will you teach me?"

"Is it a Potion? No. Patroni come under the Defence Against the Dark Arts curriculum. The Defence Against the Dark Arts _NEWT_ curriculum. I am your Potions Professor, in case you've forgotten."

"You're also my Head of House. And we all know you're more than qualified to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"And I have better things to do than waste my time teaching you a spell far above your level. Why don't you go bother Professor Lupin about it? You know, your _actual_ Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Yeah, no, that is not going to be an environment conducive to me learning the Patronus charm."

"And why not?"

"Because I'll be spending too much time worrying I'm about to become wolf-chow to focus on happy memories."

" _You know?"_

"I'm surprised everyone doesn't, after that essay you set us. But alas, many of my peers are idiots."

"Hmm." Snape didn't say anything for a minute or so. Draco resisted the urge to fill the silence.

"So you're saying you're not scared of me then? If you think you could focus enough on happy memories to produce a Patronus in my presence."

"Oh, I'm scared of you, Sir. I just don't believe you'd kill me."

"Is that right?" Snape sounded intrigued.

"Maybe we'll discover I've been a naïve trusting Hufflepuff. Or you will. I'll be too dead to realise in that scenario, I suppose."

"10am Sunday."

"What?"

"My office, 10am Sunday. If it's as hopeless an endeavour as I expect it to be, we won't be wasting any more of my precious time, but you get one shot. If you're not there on time, then it's gone."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Hmm. Now get out of my classroom, before you waste any more of my time."

It turned out Harry had also organised his own Patronus lessons, this time with Lupin, although his wouldn't be starting for another week or so yet. _I wonder if he's who taught him how to produce a Patronus first time round too?_ Draco did worry that maybe they should have organised something together, or invited Ron and Hermione. _Nah. Snape won't teach the Gryffindors, and I don't want to spend time alone with the werewolf. If Hermione and Ron want their own lessons, then can organise them themselves (or maybe we can teach them if we get the hang of it). Besides, it seems to be me and Harry who react worst to the Dementors; we're the ones that really need the lessons._

Draco was walking up towards the Room of Requirement to meet his friends, when suddenly he found himself yanked behind a tapestry. He quickly pulled himself free and un-holstered his wand, finding himself brandishing it in two ginger faces.

"Good reflexes, Malfoy," one Weasley twin smirked at him.

"You can put your wand away now though," the other informed him. "You're going to want to hear what we have to say," he added, seeing Draco's scowl.

"We thought long and hard about letting someone into this secret. We never thought it would be a Slytherin, never mind a _Malfoy_."

"Then why are you telling me this mysterious secret then?"

"Because for some strange reason, we feel we can trust you. You helped save our sister after all."

"That was mostly Harry."

"You've managed to stop Ron getting himself killed."

"There's still plenty of time for that. And we've faced plenty of mortal peril. I mean, there's a supposedly dead Dark Lord, and an escaped prisoner after us for a start."

"That's why we decided to give you this," twin two announced, whilst twin one produced an old looking piece of parchment, and flattened it out dramatically in front of them.

"And how, may I ask, is that going to stop us ending up dead?"

"Prepare to be amazed." With that, twin two got out his wand, tapped the map, and announced " _I solemnly swear I am up to no good_." Draco watched, interest peaked, as ink lines spread out across the previously blank parchment, forming a map. Words appeared across the top, proclaiming ' _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present The Marauder's Map'._

"A map of Hogwarts. That's cool I guess."

"A map of Hogwarts? Forge, he thinks it's just a map," twin one commented to twin two.

"Maybe we made a mistake showing him it Gred? Clearly he can't apprieciate its wonder."

Draco rolled his eyes and took a closer look. The map was filled with little dots, each labelled with a name in minuscule print. Draco quickly found the area of the map corresponding to their current location, and found little dots labelled "Fred Weasley" (apparently the identity of twin one), "George Weasley" and "Draco Malfoy".

"Is this live?"

"Ah, so you see it now," Fred smiled, "This map shows you the current location of everyone in the school. Makes it great for sneaking. Not only that, but it shows a whole load of secret passageways. Even ones out of the school. Look, this one leads right into the cellar at Honeydukes."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"It was a difficult decision to make. We've have some great fun with this map. But we've learnt all the secret passageways, so we can still cause plenty of mayhem even without the map. And well, we've always felt bad that we never spotted Peter Pettigrew on here. I mean, the creep was pretending to be a rat and hanging out in our brother's pocket, and we still didn't notice. We'd like to think we'd spot him if he showed back up again, but we're not so sure. But we think you might. You can use the map to help keep you, Ron, Harry and Hermione safe. Spot Pettigrew coming. Use it to find a way to escape if you find yourselves cornered."

"Why are you giving it to me? Why not Ron?"

"Ron would never let us here the end of it, that we've had it all this time and not shared it before now. Plus, we think it might be better off in the hands of a Slytherin."

"What?"

"Ron, Harry and Hermione, they're Gryffindors through and through. As fellow Gryffindors, we salute them for that. But we know them, and if they see Pettigrew on there, they'll go charging straight for him. Whereas you might use some Slytherin logic and go get back-up. You can't survive on bravery alone."

Draco wasn't sure what to say.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked eventually, taking the map as Fred passed him it.

"We hope so. We're trusting you Malfoy. You protect Ron, Harry and Hermione," Fred told him

"Or you'll find out just what mischief we're capable of unleashing," George added, with a glare which was impressive for a Weasley (but way tamer than many Draco had previously be subjected to in his life).

"When you're done with the map, just tap it again and say ' _mischief managed'_ ," Fred instructed, after what he clearly felt was a suitable amount of time for the threat to sink in.

"And remember, to open it, it's ' _I solemnly swear I am up to no good',"_ George added _._

"Where did you even get it?" Draco asked.

"Found it in one of Filch's cabinets, didn't we? Took us ages to figure out how to work it. But we knew as soon as we picked it up, it was going to be good."

"Take care of it, and use it well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I wanted some more Draco-Snape interaction, hence Snape's teaching him the Patronus. 
> 
> And Lupin's going to be more punctual with his Patronus lessons with Harry than in the book (where they don't start until after Christmas) as I want to get the plot moving. Plus, it would make sense that maybe Lupin's less stressed and busy in this timeline, when Sirius is legally free and his friend (plus Lupin knows Harry better, so is more likely to make extra effort for him).
> 
> I decided early on that Draco was going to end up with the Marauders Map, it just took me a while to think of exactly why Fred and George would give him it.


	15. Chapter 15

Sunday morning found Draco stood outside Snape's office, second guessing himself.

_Maybe this was a bad idea? Why did I think Snape was a good person to teach me a Patronus? (Maybe because he's an ex-Death Eater who presumably's been through some shit, and yet can still make one?) But what if I can't?_

_I can't let myself psyche myself out. If I don't try, then I definitely can't. This is something I need to learn to do. Something I should have learnt first time round, if I hadn't been too busy being an idiot._

Draco took a deep breath and knocked.

"Malfoy," Snape greeted in his usual droll voice, "Come in. Whether or not we're wasting both our times, we might as well get on with things." He let him in through the door. The desk had been pushed back slightly, to leave an open space, at the back of which stood a coat-stand with a spare robe draped over it.

"We wouldn't want you facing an actual dementor too quickly, would we?" Snape pointed out, after seeing Draco's less than impressed reaction to their stand-in dementor. "I imagine the owls I'd get from your parents if you managed to get you soul sucked out would be quite something. If you manage to make some progress casting the charm, there are potions which can mimic the fear induced by dementors, which we could try, to increase the realism of the simulation." _Of course you have fear-inducing potions in your stores..._

"You have read up on the theory, I hope?"

"The incantation is ' _Expecto Patronum'._ The spell is most effectively cast by focussing on a positive memory, and using that to fuel the spell."

"Not just a positive memory. Dementors feed on emotions, leaving their victims filled with despair, trapped in their worst memories. To defeat them, you are creating a totem of joy, of happiness, of anti-despair, so powerful it physically knocks them back. Your memory needs to be powerful. You have to give the Patronus an extract of everything you are, put your heart and soul into it. You need to have a focussed mind, to block out all other thought. To concentrate on channelling pure emotion into your spell. It's why so many witches and wizards fail to be able to do what, on paper, is a simple spell. It requires no fancy wand gestures, no long and complicated incantations. Just a force of mind that most people lack. Your occlumency skills, mediocre as they probably are, may well help you." Something must have shown on Draco's face, because Snape smirked slightly. "Did you really think I didn't know you've been practicing occlumency? You've improved somewhat since your first year. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone, or try to test your shields. I just thought I should mention it, considering that it's the one reason I'm bothering trying to teach you this spell at all, the reason I think you may stand a slight chance at success."

Snape led Draco over to stand facing the coat-stand Dementor, then stood looking at him expectedly.

"Well, go on. You're never going to summon a Patronus if you don't _summon it._ "

"Are you not going to...?" Draco started. He'd been expecting a bit more instruction.

"What? Hold your hand? You know the incantation. You know what to do. What's left to do but try?"

So Draco took a breath to centre himself, closed his eyes and focussed. It had taken him a lot of thinking during the week, to decide which memory to use. In the end, he had concluded one from his birthday party, whilst they were playing quidditch. It encompassed a lot of things. The freedom of being on a broom. His parents there, happy and safe, doing something carefree and innocent as playing a game. His friends there, both the Gryffindors (friends he never would have believed he would have, friendship realer than any he'd experienced before, despite his initial intentions that the friendship would be a ruse, a convenience, the three had found a way to worm under his skin, his hard shell, into his heart), and the Slytherins, who he knew less well in this life, but did not want as enemies. Everyone getting alone, playing a game together in good will. It served almost as a metaphor for his mission, what he wanted to achieve. A world, where Gryffindor and Slytherin could get together to play quidditch, not kill each other on a battlefield. _Merlin, that's getting far too... touchy-feely._ But it was true.

"Expecto Patronum!" He opened his eyes as he yelled, but nothing happened.

"Try again," Snape instructed. "Remember your emotional framing. And don't close your eyes. You'll be training yourself into a bad habit. Never close your eyes, when enemies are around."

Draco tried again. And again. And again. And still nothing happened.

"Do not get despondent," which was probably as motivating as pep talks from Snape got. "You cannot expect to be successful straight away. Keep your focus. Train your mental shields. For a moment, shut out all doubts, all despair, all clinging feelings of hopelessness. Let joy fill your mind. No matter how little you have, let it spread so that it fills your thoughts. Become the moment. And as you say the incantation, focus on that feeling, focus on forcing it into your wand, into the spell. Let it take form."

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!"

Draco stood panting as he watched a vague white mist emerge from his wand. It only stuck around for a second, and never took a defined form, but Draco could feel it. It was his Patronus. His emotion, taken form.

"Good," Snape commented. "We'll work on that next week. See if you can reproduce it."

"Next week?" Draco asked.

"Yes. That's enough for today. I have other things to be doing, and I shall not be the subject of yet another of Madam Pomprey's rants, if you work yourself into magical exhaustion."

"You're willing to keep helping me?"

"I must be a fool, but yes. Like I said, the headache I'd get if you manage to get your soul sucked by a dementor would be really something, and since you've taken the idiotic decision to hang around with _Gryffindors,_ the chances of that happening are higher than I would like. So I'll keep teaching you to produce a Patronus, since you've demonstrated today it's not a totally hopeless endeavour. Now, get out of my office. Same time next week."

The following week, Draco had once again managed to make his misty Patronus, on two occasions this time, and on the second, he thought he saw some legs starting to take form. _It's not a snake then, I suppose._ He was rather hoping for a dragon, that would be cool, and would go with his name. _They didn't really look like dragon legs. But I guess they weren't really formed enough to tell._

The dementors were still stationed around the school, but Draco was starting to hear talk to suggest his campaign to be rid of them was at least getting noticed. He'd also been studying the Weasley twin's map. He hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary (although he had seen what appeared to be secret night-time liaisons between some of the older students, of which he made careful notes of for future use; the fact the Weasley's seemingly hadn't used the map for blackmail data acquisition was probably why they weren't in Slytherin).

Harry had had his first Dementor lesson with Lupin. They didn't discuss much (the lessons were personal, and neither wanted to upset their progress by comparing themself to the other), but Harry did mention that Lupin had procured another boggart, and that was what Harry was practicing against. Draco was reluctantly impressed at Lupin's ingenuity at figuring out Harry's boggart might be a dementor, and using that to an advantage (and also his bravado, considering there were many other forms it could have been, including Voldemort and a basilisk).

There was to be another Hogsmeade visit at the end of term, but Snape and Lupin had conveniently arranged Draco and Harry's Patronus lessons for then (in a complete lack of subtly surely even Harry couldn't miss). Draco could have tried arguing, or even snuck out at the end of his lesson (he had the map, with its secret passageways after all), but didn't really see the point. It was a trip into a village, to buy sweets. If he wanted to go to Hogsmeade so much, he could get his parents to take him over the holidays. He could pop down to the kitchens and help himself to cakes. He could summon Dobby, and ask him to fetch him whatever he wanted. It wasn't worth it. Particularly if him not going to Hogsmeade helped win the argument for the removal of the Dementors. And he didn't want to miss his Patronus lesson.

Draco went into the lesson with even more focus. He was learning this skill, to help him survive. To help him succeed. He was going to win. He wasn't going to be taken down by some fucking monster. He was going to help defeat Lord fucking Voldemort, then live happily in a nice peaceful world, praised as a hero.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Draco yelled, for the fourth time that morning. He had produced two formless balls of mist, and one ball of mist with two vague front legs. But this time, a formed white creature burst forth from his wand.

A glowing white centaur pranced proudly around the room.

_Oh, for fucks sake!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are a few small time jumps in the book at this point, which I tried to cover in this chapter (so hopefully the timeline vaguely adds up).  
> I'm hoping I did okay at writing Snape this chapter. I wasn't sure how to write him. I didn't want him to come across too out of character and touchy-feely, but thought having him regard Patronus casting as an exercise in mental control was the way to go.  
> I know a few of you have been wondering what form Draco's Patronus would take, but this is the one I went with. I won't go into my reasoning just yet, as some of it might come up next chapter.  
> Let me know what you think. I know this chapter might be more controversial than some.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're continuing the pattern of two chapters in short succession, followed by a gap (because that's what works with my work schedule at the moment). Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter; I hope I've answered some of your questions in this one.

"Well..." Snape said eventually, "That's an interesting Patronus."

Draco stared at the thing, as it continued its lap of the room. It even looked to have the pretentious look of a centaur.

"Patroni that take the form of magical creatures are meant to be a rare gift. Though I've never heard of someone having a centaur for a Patronus."

"What does it mean?"

"I'm not the kind of person who knows about things like that. I'm sure Professor Trelawney could give you a million insights into it's significance," [a million _bullshit insights,_ was what his face was saying]. "I hear you're doing well in Divination yourself, maybe you could figure it out. Or maybe that's why; centaurs are known to like predicting the future, after all. The form your Patronus takes is not what matters. When it's the only thing between you and a Dementor, you won't care if it's a flobberworm or a dragon, as long as it serves it's purpose." _I wish it was a dragon though._ "Now, release the spell, and cast it again."

Draco ended the spell, suddenly feeling tired, as he realised how much energy he had been putting into it. He tried recasting, but nothing happened, not even mist.

"You're dwelling on the form again, aren't you? Use your Occlumency, focus, and cast!"

It took effort, but Draco tried to clear his mind. However, still nothing happened when he cast the spell.

"Let's call it a day," Snape sighed. "Clearly you're still hung up on your Patronus form. I need you to accept it, get comfortable with it. You can't change it. You can accept the form your Patronus takes, or be stuck unable to cast it."

"I thought Patronus forms can change?"

"Yes, Patroni can change through your life, often following dramatic events. But you can't control it, and you can't make it happen. No matter how much you might want to. I expect you to have sorted out your issues with your Patronus when we resume your lessons after Christmas."

"Yes Sir."

With that, Draco left. He needed to think.

_Did the centaurs change me, magically, when they sent me back?_ Estevan had said he could sense centaur magic on him, after all. Maybe that was why? _What did those bloody mules do to me!?_

_Is it because I have future knowledge?_ But centaurs didn't actually seem to have _knowledge_ of the future? They just liked predicting it. _Well, I guess we don't know how much they know about the future. The bastards don't exactly like to share, after all. Not except when they can be pricks about it._

_Maybe it's a subtle cosmic insult? Centaurs are pricks, and maybe I'm a prick too?_

There was only one thing for it. If Draco was going to get closure on this, he needed to talk to the bastards themselves. He needed to go into the Forbidden Forest and talk to the centaurs.

The problem was, between the school and the forest, were a horde of Dementors. And since Draco couldn't cast his Patronus until he got comfortable with its form, and he couldn't do that until he'd spoken with the centaurs, he was at a bit of an impasse. He scoured the Map, trying to see if there were any secret ways into the forest, which would bypass the Dementors. He drew a blank. Just when he was about to give up, he spotted what looked like a tunnel exit drawn in the woods. It wasn't labelled, but looked like it would run back towards the school. He tried to figure out where it would come out, provided it ran in a vaguely straight line. There wasn't anything marked on the Map. However, the Map wasn't infallible. He'd realised it didn't have the Room of Requirement on. Draco was staring at the Map in thought, when he spotted Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and an idea hit him. The Chamber of Secrets wasn't marked on the map either. It was hard to place where exactly it was situated, compared to the rest of the school, but he would put it roughly in the vicinity of where he predicted the tunnel came out. Was it too much of a leap (and a hope?) that there was a tunnel from the Chamber into the forest?

But to find out, he'd need to get into the Chamber, and to do that, he needed Harry and his Parselmouth abilities. According to the Map, Harry was still with Lupin in his Patronus lesson, so he'd have to wait for them to finish.

By the time Harry was free, it was about lunchtime. Draco decided the best thing to do would be to meet up in the Great Hall, and suggest the idea after they'd eaten. Harry might be more agreeable on a full stomach.

"Oh, hey Draco!" Harry greeted, between mouthfuls of food. The hall was half empty, with most of the upper years being in Hogsmeade, so there was room for Draco to slide onto the Gryffindor bench next to his friend. He got some stares, but no one told him to move. "How did your lesson go?"

"Oh, well... it's kind of complicated? Look, I need a favour?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, before even asking what it was (a very non-Slytherin thing to do). "What do you need?"

"I'll explain after lunch," Draco replied, glancing around to indicate he didn't want to be overheard.

When they left the table, Harry turned as if to head up to the Room of Requirement, but followed Draco in the other direction after he indicated they needed to go that way.

" _The Chamber entrance!?_ " Harry whispered in surprise, when Draco stopped outside the one to the staircase down from the dungeons.

"Yes, I need to go down there."

"Oh, well, if you're sure." He stared at Draco's chest for a second (looking at the snake on his Slytherin crest, Draco realised), and made a sibilant hiss. The doorway opened, and they crept through.

Once they were heading down the long staircase, Draco started explaining. He was lucky Harry had trusted him enough to go along with him without explanation so far, and no one would overhear now.

"So, I managed to cast a corporeal Patronus," he began.

"You did!? That's great! I've barely managed to get mist!"

"I only managed it once though, and that's the problem."

"What's the problem?"

"My Patronus wasn't what I expected it to be, and now it seems to be psyching me out from casting it again."

"Why? What was it?" Harry asked. "Wait, was it a basilisk? Is that why we're here?"

"No. In fact, I think a basilisk would be quite cool. It's... a centaur."

"Well, that's cool too, I guess? What's the problem?"

"It's a weird Patronus to have. It's rare to have a magical creature Patronus. But I've not heard of anyone having a _sentient_ creature Patronus."

"Oh, right. But why are we heading down here then? To practice where no one will see? Couldn't we have done that in the Room of Requirement?"

"No, that's no why. If I'm going to figure out why my Patronus is a centaur, I think the best place to start is by talking to the centaurs themselves. But I can't get into the forest without going past the Dementors."

"I still don't see where the Chamber comes into it."

"I reckon there might be a passageway from the Chamber into the forest. The basilisk has to have been getting prey from somewhere." (Draco had thought through a way to explain it without mentioning the Map).

They reached the bottom of the staircase, then stood with their eyes closed as Harry opened the doors. He seemed to be having a Parseltongue conversation with the Basilisk.

"She says we can enter," he announced eventually in English.

The Basilisk looked healthier than last time they saw her. She was still missing her left eye and a fang, but scar tissue had formed, making the wounds look less graphic.

" _Hsssssssssshssss_ asks what we're doing here."

"I said I was going to come up with a nickname for her that I can actually pronounce, didn't I?" Draco thought about it for a minute. "How about... Sarah?" The Basilisk didn't say anything for a second, then started hissing. It didn't _sound_ angry, but quite honestly, it was hard to tell.

"She says that name is suitable. You may refer to her as such."

"Thank you... Sarah." The Basilisk vaguely nodded its head in response. "We came to visit your Chamber as I need to find a way into the Forbidden Forest. I was hoping you might have a tunnel or passageway."

"She says there is one, but it is quite a long way. She would not advice you to go through; there are dangerous creatures in the forest. None as dangerous as her of course, but unlike her, they are not dedicated to protecting the students of her Salazar's school, and may well see a little wizard like you as prey."

"I thank you for your council," Draco addressed the Basilisk, "but I must go. It is a quest of self-discovery, one I must succeed in to move forwards."

"Then she will show you the way, and send her best regards for your quest to be successful," Harry replied, translating, then switching tone, "Are you _sure_ about this Draco? Do you want me to come with you?"

"This is something I need to do alone. Stay here with Sarah. I will try not to be long."

The tunnel the Basilisk showed him was rather dark and grotty, with a large number of small animal skeletons underfoot (and some larger skeletons, which were creepier). It seemed to be an age until Draco eventually came out in the Forest. He looked around. _Now, how to find some centaurs?_ When he'd met them previously, they'd just shown up. But he didn't much fancy just waiting around to see if any wanted to appear. He got the Map out. There weren't any centaurs marked; clearly the tracking magic didn't extend to centaurs. However, there was an area of the forest marked 'Centaur Territory'. _Well, I guess that's a good place to start._

It was another long trek until he reached the borders, and he suddenly found himself at the sharp end of multiple centaur arrows.

"Explain yourself, wizard," one demanded. "Why do you trespass on centaur ground?"

"I came to talk."

"Talk?"

"I am in need of your insight."

"And being a _high-and-mighty wizard_ you thought you could what, just demand it of us?"

"No. Look... I..." Draco sighed. How to explain? "Are you familiar with the Patronus charm?"

"We may not be interested in the magics of wizards, but do not presume us ignorant."

"Well, my Patronus... it's a centaur."

The centaurs remained quiet for a few seconds.

"I have not heard of wizards' Patroni taking our form," the centaur that had been speaking eventually admitted. "You will wait here." With that, it left, one centaur following it at its right shoulder. The rest remained, not lowering their bows, arrows still pointed at Draco.

They returned, with more centaurs joining them, including Estevan, and the grey centaur he had met last time he was in the forest.

"Blessed foal," Estevan greeted him, in apparent surprise. "You have been blessed again?"

"I'm not sure about _blessed..."_

"You must be truly special, not only to be blessed with traces of centaur magic, but to have us as your Patronus form. Our kin who originally blessed you with our magic must have seen something special."

"Can you show us?" another centaur asked (this one looked old; though how old centaurs could grow, Draco was not certain. But his humanoid face showed wrinkles, and his coat was almost pure white).

"No. I was not expecting my Patronus to take this form, and my instructor thinks I will not be able to cast it again until I am comfortable with it. But to do that, I need to understand _why._ "

"I must admit," the white centaur replied, "Patronus magic is not something we are experts in. We do not dabble in wizard magics. But we are aware of our own strengths and weaknesses, though we would prefer to deny the latter. And we are good judges of character, and fate. Perhaps we can help you find a balance, a logic, between yourself, and your guardian's form.

We centaurs may not follow wizards' traditional views of morality, of good and evil. Some may think us aloof, cold, self-centred. Sometimes we may have stayed out of things, when others think we should have taken a stand. But when we feel something needs to be done, we do what it takes. We are not afraid to act, to do what we see as necessary.

We are loyal, dedicated to those we have chosen to protect, and will stop at nothing to do so.

To many, we are mysterious, and have knowledge they cannot comprehend.

And we have secrets. Secrets we cannot share with you, young wizard.

You should be proud of your Patronus. It shows you have hidden depths that might be missed at first glance. That you are more than you might be presumed to be."

Draco took a minute to let that all settle in.

"You say I have centaur magic on me. Is that why my Patronus is a centaur? Did it change me?"

"I think you have been changed as a consequence of that magic. You are not who the stars predict you would be. But the magic has not changed you directly, I do not think. It is given you the means to change yourself. To be a person, who is worthy of the honour of having a centaur Patronus, to protect you in dark times."

"I hope that has helped you find peace with yourself, young wizard," the white centaur added after a while. "I do not doubt we will be seeing you again, though I cannot read it in the stars at this time. I look forward to seeing this Patronus for myself."

"I will walk you back to the edge of the domain of the Snake King," Estevan told Draco. "As I have said before, this forest is not safe for foals to walk alone."

"You know about the Basilisk?" Draco asked, as they walked.

"Of course. We know everything that happens in this forest."

Draco was tired when he eventually emerged back into the Chamber of Secrets. He'd walked a long way today, and it had been an emotionally draining day.

"Draco!" Harry shouted, running towards him from where he had been sat on the Basilisk's back ( _On a Basilisk's back!_ Draco would rant about the danger of it, had it not been totally hypocritical of him, considering where he'd just been). "You're okay!"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Did you find out whatever it was you needed to know?"

"I think so." Draco was tired, but he figured he still had enough strength for this.

"Expecto Patronum!"

His centaur trotted around the Chamber, almost looking to enjoy the expanse of space to run in. The Basilisk seemed to watch it in interest, and Harry looked up in awe.

"It's amazing!" Harry gasped. "Are you going to name him?"

_That's a point._ Draco looked at his Patronus. It might just be coincidence, or the fact Patroni happen to be white, but it kind of looked like the old white centaur he'd spoken with in the forest.

"I think he has a name. I just don't know it yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I originally thought that this fic was going to be the shortest so far, considering I didn't have much in the way of plot when I started, and had negated a lot of the canon plot (by already freeing Sirius, and getting rid of the time-turner). But the writing-by-the-seat-of-my-pants seems to keep going on, with me writing the plot based on what happened to happen the previous chapter, and I think this fic might end up longest yet. The whole series is nearly at 100,000 words now!  
> I hope you like the explanation for the Patronus. Ultimately, we don't know why Draco has the Patronus he has. What matters is now he's comfortable with it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple of apologies. Sorry this chapter is late. It was my birthday on my last days off, so I was celebrating rather than writing (and then I decided to start writing a new Batman fanfic...). And sorry this chapter is rather short. And just one scene. That one scene stretched out longer than I expected, so thought you might as well have it now, rather than keeping you waiting any longer. I'm going to try and make a start on the next chapter now, so hopefully it won't be as long coming as this one.

"Where have you been?" Hermione demanded, when Harry and Draco emerged from the Chamber and met her and Ron in the Room of Requirement. "You missed dinner!"

"Did we? Ah, damn it. Dobby?"

"Yes, Master Draco?" the elf replied, suddenly materialising.

"Can you fetch us something to eat?"

"Of course Master Draco. What would you like?"

"Oh, I don't mind. Harry?" The boy just shrugged.

"Dobby will bring Master Draco, Harry Potter, and their friends a selection then."

"Oh, no, Dobby. You don't have to fetch anything for Ron and me. We've already eaten," Hermione started, earning an elbow to the ribs from Ron for including him in her statement. Dobby didn't reply, disapparating away. Dishes soon started appearing. Hermione started pulling a face like she was going to start ranting about House Elf rights.

"So," Draco began, whilst helping himself to some potatoes, "You were mad at us for missing dinner?"

"Where were you? You clearly weren't still at your Patronus lessons, because Lupin and Snape were both at dinner."

"Well, technically, I was doing homework for my Patronus lessons..." _Snape did tell me I needed to sort out my Patronus issues after all..._

"You weren't in the library. I called there on my way up here, because there was a book I needed to grab for my Arithmancy essay."

"No, I was... I was in the forest," Draco admitted.

"Snape sent you to the forest to try your Patronus against Dementors!? On your own!?"

"Oh, hell no. He didn't know I was there. And I didn't go to fight the Dementors. I'm not suicidal. Even with a Patronus, I don't want to go near the things."

"Then why were you in the forest?" _It'll probably speed up answering that question if I just show them my Patronus._

"Look," Draco said, putting his food down, grabbing his wand and standing up. He took a second to focus himself. "Expecto Patronum!"

"Oh, wow Draco! You did it! That's great!" Hermione gushed. "I've not heard of anyone having a sentient creature for a Patronus before."

"Exactly. So I was a bit weirded out. So I thought the best people to talk with about it would be the centaurs, and so that's why I was in the forest."

"What did they say?"

"Oh some pretentious bullshit about how I should be honoured to have them as my Patronus form."

"And you realised the Patronus suits you, because you can be a pretentious bastard at times too?" Ron joked.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on. You can be really pretentious at times. Like when you kept trying to get Harry to look at robe catalogues."

"I was trying to help! Harry, you're meant to be the "saviour of the wizarding world", a little more thought about your image wouldn't go amiss. Though, I'll admit, things have improved since you moved in with Sirius. He's a Black, so of course he cares about appearances. Now, I wouldn't necessarily say he has _good_ taste, but at least he puts some effort in."

"What's wrong with what I wear?" Harry asked, sounding slightly offended.

"Nothing, exactly. Just..."

"BOYS!" Hermione interrupted. "If I wanted to talk about fashion, then I'd hang out with Lavender and Parvati!! Shall we get back to the matter at hand? How you went into the forest to speak with the Centaurs. Which still sounds rather dangerous, even if I get why you went. Harry, did you go too?"

"No, I was waiting for him in the Chamber."

"What!?"

"The Chamber of Secrets."

"Yes, I got that, but why?"

"Mate, is your Patronus a Basilisk?" Ron asked, "That would be awesome!"

"No. I still don't know what my Patronus is. I haven't managed to make it corporal yet."

"You'll get it soon," Draco reassured, "you haven't been practicing as long."

"So why were you in the Chamber then?"

"Because that's how I got into the forest. I needed a way to get past the Dementors, so we went to the Chamber to ask Sarah if there was a tunnel."

"Back up a minute," Ron interrupted. "Who the bloody hell is Sarah!?"

"Oh, that's what I named the Basilisk. We could hardly call her SssssssssssSsss."

"Hsssssssssshssss," Harry corrected.

"Exactly."

"So let me get this straight, you two have been not only to the Chamber, where you had a chat with and ended up naming a Basilisk, but into the Forbidden Forest, for a chat with Centaurs too?" Hermione summarised.

"Well, only I went into the forest, but yes."

"Why didn't you take us?"

"Because you weren't here."

"Why didn't you wait for us?"

"Because I needed to go today. I might not have got another chance before the holidays. And this was something I needed to do."

"And we thought you might have disapproved," Harry bravely admitted.

"Why, because it sounds ridiculously dangerous?"

"Yes."

"It would have been less dangerous if you had more back-up."

"And that's also why," Draco told her. "I made a New Year's Resolution to try and stop encouraging your Gryffindor spirits. Taking you with me would have broken that."

"It's December. And you took Harry."

"It was a New School Year's Resolution. And I only took Harry as far as the Chamber. Besides, Harry's the Boy-Who-Lived. Danger covets him."

"You are ridiculous."

"I never denied that. Now, can I eat? All this danger has made me hungry."


	18. Chapter 18

The Christmas holidays came round, and this time, Draco and his friends all went home for it. Draco spent most of the time just hanging out at home with his parents, though he did go shopping with mother, and had his friends round on the 30th. His parents were having a small get-together for New Year's the following day, and Draco had wondered about asking if his friends could come to that, but then he remembered a lot of his parents' friends were past (and future) Death Eaters, so he decided against that idea, and had his own mini-party instead. Once again, Sirius insisted on coming since Harry was coming, but at least did leave the kids alone most of the night (Draco had been wondering what Sirius and his parents were getting up to whilst he and his friends were playing games and having fun; drinking apparently, if their tipsy states at the end of the night were anything to go by- _hey, at least they weren't killing each other_ ).

After a good holidays all round, Draco was met by what he considered an extra Christmas present on returning to school; the Dementors were gone. His campaign had worked. Sure, he could produce a Patronus now (he'd been practising in the gardens over the holidays, thinking the cold environment would add to the sense there could be a real Dementor there), but he'd still rather not have to.

They heard from Hagrid that he'd received an Official Warning, for the incident in his class with Hermione falling of the Hippogriff (but apparently this time, the beast in question got off scot-free). To celebrate, he'd supposedly given his class a half-decent lesson, involving Salamanders and bonfires (but Draco was still glad to have been inside the castle, a safe distance away).

Palm-reading was Trelawney's latest way of predicting Harry's death. Ignoring her, and getting into the bullshitting vibe, Draco felt he was really starting to get the hang of Divination. He'd made some outlandish statements about his classmates and their futures that he was quite proud of, and he hadn't even cheated and used his future knowledge. _Maybe this is why I have the Centaur Patronus?_

Speaking of Patroni, Snape agreed to continue Draco's lessons even though the Dementors around the school had gone.

"It would be short-sighted of us to think you're not going to need the skill, just because the current threat has gone. Which would be highly ironic, considering your Patronus form."

When they met on Sunday, Snape had him start by demonstrating his Patronus.

"You've accepted your Patronus form. Good. Now we can move on to upping the simulation." He produced a vial from his robes. "The Exterrerus Potion. Liquid fear. It should help simulate the fear induced by a Dementor."

"You want me to drink that?" Draco knew Snape had mentioned it before, but now the matter was at hand, he didn't really like the sound of the idea. Facing his fears wasn't really going very well this year.

"It's completely your choice. Learning this charm was your idea, after all. I'm just trying to help you do so."

"Fine. I'll do it." _I can't let fear rule me._ "How much of it should I drink?"

"We should start with one drop. It is a very potent potion."

Draco let Snape pass him the dropper from the bottle, and allowed a single drop to fall from it onto his tongue. He stood, wand in hand, starring at the coat-stand Dementor, waiting for the potion to take hold. Slowly, the empty robe morphed... into Albus Dumbledore. And Draco suddenly found himself once more on the roof of the Astronomy Tower. In his mind, he could hear the Death Eaters egging him on, telling him to get on with it, telling him he must kill Dumbledore. Fear took hold. He didn't want to do this. He didn't think he could do this. But what would happen to him, to his family, if he didn't? His hand shook, wand outstretched, but unable to cast a spell from it. He sensed Snape behind him, walking towards him. He knew what the man was going to do. What Draco couldn't bring himself to do. It was all too much. He couldn't watch. He couldn't stay here. He turned around and ran.

Though his mind was still showing the Astronomy Tower, he could still see the door. He tugged and tugged on it in his panic, but it wouldn't open. At the edges of his awareness, he thought he perhaps heard his name, but that didn't matter. Only getting away mattered. Until suddenly, darkness took over him, and all thought was gone.

* * *

"Draco."

...

"Draco!"

Draco opened his eyes, to find himself in Snape's Office, sat propped up against the wall. The fear was still there, but dulled somewhat. He tried to move, but found he couldn't. That set the fear off climbing again.

"Draco! Are you back with us?"

"What?"

"Are you back with us? Do you know where you are?"

"Yes. What's going on?"

Snape muttered a couple of words, and suddenly Draco could move again. He wrapped his arms around his knees.

"You had a bad reaction to the Exterrerus Potion. I had to stun you, for your own safety."

Memories came flooding back.

"Oh great, so another thing I need to be scared of. Fear potion itself."

"You don't need to fear fear. You need to understand it, control it. Not let it control you."

"And how do I do that?"

"Well, your Occlumency should help. Strengthen your emotional shields. But also, you need to acknowledge your fear. Not hide from it. That will only let it fester. You need to accept it, and overcome it."

"Well, that's easier said that done."

"I never said it would be easy." Snape sighed and rubbed his face. He looked tired. "We'll have to think of something else for next lesson, since this clearly was a bad idea. That's if you still want to continue. In the meantime, you should think about going to the Hospital Wing. I gave you a Calming Draft to help overcome the fear potion, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't still go and see Madam Pomprey."

"No, I think I'm alright now, Sir. Thank you. I'll just... go." Snape looked disapproving, but didn't stop him.

"Chocolate," he said, as Draco was halfway out the (now unlocked) door.

"What?"

"Eat some chocolate. I've heard it helps."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I half considered having a chapter about a Malfoy New Year's Party, but I decided we had enough filler at the start of the fic, and should really be speeding the plot along a bit now (there probably will be some quite big time jumps coming up over the next few chapters).  
> I kind of wanted to leave the chapter on a cliffhanger, but decided that would make it too short, so instead we get a page-break (for what I think is the first time in the fic).


	19. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I'd do things a bit differently this chapter, and include an interlude, that isn't from Draco's perspective. I thought it would be interesting to see these two characters interact.

INTERLUDE

Severus knocked on the door of the office of his least favourite colleague (and that was saying something, as there were quite a few of his colleagues he didn't like overly much).

"Severus."

"Lupin."

"What brings you here? It's not..." Lupin did the maths in his head. The full moon was still 16 days away.

"No. I need to speak with you. About something."

"Oh, well, come in."

When the door was shut again, and Severus has cast the appropriate privacy charms (because he didn't trust Lupin to have them on his office already), he spoke.

"So, you might have heard I have been helping Draco Malfoy learn the Patronus charm."

"Oh yes, Harry was saying Draco can produce a corporal Patronus now. We're hoping Harry will be at that stage soon."

"Yes. He appears to have mastered the charm in a classroom situation. The problem is trying to safely test that skill in a more realistic situation. Our last lesson... did not go well."

"What happened?"

"We tried the Exterrerus Potion..."

"Ah," Lupin replied, in a tone that implied he understood the problem.

"You don't sound surprised?"

"I had all the third years face a boggart as part of my class. It's important they know what they might be faced with. I can't tell you what it was, but Draco's, it was... disturbing."

"You think he has some kind of trauma?"

"Look, we both have our fair share of trauma. We lived through the war..."

"But he hasn't," Severus interrupted. "Not really. Draco should be too young to remember anything from the war. Where will he have gained trauma from? By all accounts, he should be a spoilt pampered brat."

"You don't need war for there to be horror."

"Yes, but I know Lucius and Narcissa. They'll have kept him sheltered. He should be a spoilt little pureblood. And yet, we have Draco. Who seems to have some buried trauma. Who arrived at this school, and went straight to befriend Harry Potter, a Muggleborn, and a _Weasley_. Who seems to have skills he shouldn't have. He's a half-decent Occlumens, you know. And he seems to excel in his classes whilst seemingly not even trying."

"I've seen him do wandless magic I think, too."

"Really?"

"He claims it was accidental magic, but I'm not so sure."

"What did he do?"

"Summoned a silver knife out of a drawer."

"A _silver_ knife?"

"Oh, yes. He knew. Don't know how he knew, but he did. We'd never met, but suddenly he was shouting werewolf and brandishing a silver knife that had flown into his hand."

"Now that I would have liked to have seen..." Severus muttered, more to himself than anything.

"So what do we do?" Lupin asked, after a pause.

"Do?"

"About Draco."

"Nothing. Our jobs. Teach. Which brings me back to why I came. I need... your advice," he admitted reluctantly. "On how to simulate a dementor, considering my idea was a mistake."

"Well, with Harry, I'm using a boggart. It turns into a dementor for him, and so he can cast against that."

"But that wouldn't work for Draco. It would just turn into... whatever his boggart is that disturbed you so much."

"Yes. I guess if the boys agreed, we could try having Draco casting against Harry's boggart? As long as he didn't go nearer it than Harry, it should work."

"Hmm. Not ideal."

"No. But what is? I'll speak with them, and let you know what they think."

"Fine." Severus turned to leave. "Thank you," he added reluctantly.


	20. Chapter 20

Draco didn't tell his friends what had happened at his Patronus lesson, but they could tell something had upset him. Hermione had asked if he wanted to talk about it, but no one had pushed (so presumably Hermione had talked the boys into some tact, because that was usually something Ron in particular lacked).

"How do you get rid of fear?" Draco asked eventually, when they were sat in the Room of Requirement doing homework.

"I don't know. Is there some kind of potion for that?" Ron suggested.

"You shouldn't get rid of fear!" Hermione insisted, "It's a part of being human! It protects you!"

"It also puts you in danger..."

"If you let it control you, then maybe."

"Then how do you stop it controlling you?"

"How to reduce fear? Like overcome phobias?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, one way I know some Muggle psychologists recommend is about desensitisation by repeated exposure."

"What?"

"Basically, if you're exposed to your fear enough times, you'll get used to it, and it won't scare you as much."

"What if your fear isn't just something you can expose yourself to? Or what if it's dangerous?"

"Then there's a good reason to have the fear."

"But what if you need to get over it!"

"Draco, what's this about? What's scaring you? You can tell us, I promise."

"I _can't.._." Draco muttered. Hermione pulled a distressed face at this, but didn't argue.

"Well, why is it a problem now? You've never seemed particularly scared of anything in the past."

"Because it's holding me back. From properly producing a Patronus. From fighting a boggart."

"Draco, you can produce a corporal Patronus! That's an amazing feat! And I'm sure given time, you'll get the hang of boggarts, even if you struggle right now."

"I don't know how I will, because I can't think of a single way to make my boggart humorous. And hence I need to find a way to deal with my fear, so I can get my boggart to change into something else."

"Well, I'm not an expect on psychology and phobia. I only really know of the exposure technique I mentioned before. I guess you could adapt it? If you can't be exposed to your fear, then maybe a simulation?" _No, a simulation of fear was a disaster._ "Like photos or videos or something? Or even just forcing yourself to think about it?"

"I guess I could try that..."

"Are you sure you won't tell us what it is? We could help?"

"No, I'm sure. But you are helping. This talk has helped. Thanks Hermione."

Saturday morning found Draco alone in the Room of Requirement. Hermione was in the library, working on an arithmancy group project with some other students from her class, and Ron and Harry had gone to watch the Slytherin-Ravenclaw quidditch match. Since Draco was trying to claim the high road on being kicked off the team by celebrating his increased free time, he wasn't attending the match out of principal. He was sat, starring at the Map, trying to find out what it was that Zabini got up to that was so much better than quidditch (so far Draco had ruled out 'hang around in the dormitory or common room'). His mind was going over the conversation with Hermione from earlier in the week. _How can I expose myself to my fears?_ Actually watching people die was clearly out, and he didn't much fancy looking at pictures of dead bodies. That probably wouldn't help much anyway; the bodies he saw in his nightmares were of people he knew, people who hadn't died yet. People whose deaths only existed in his memories at present.

_Memories. That's it!_

He needed a pensieve!

As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, one appeared. _I love this bloody room!_ He could put his worst memories in the pensieve and force himself to watch them. That would help him come to terms with them. Not totally of course; he would never be comfortable with what he'd seen. But hopefully it would help him keep his fear in check. Stop himself from risking his secret further, by triggering the suspicion of people like Snape and Lupin.

Now he just needed privacy. Sure, he was in the Room of Requirement, a room that not many people seemed to know about. But his friends definitely did _. I need to not be disturbed._ Once again, the room responded to his thoughts, and the door disappeared _. Well, that's convenient. Also, dangerous probably. If something happened to me in here, would nobody be able to find me?_ Draco shrugged. It wasn't like he was going to do anything dangerous. Just expose himself to the worst of his memories. It would be fine.

Draco decided to begin with the memory of the night Dumbledore died, since he'd recently relived it. He withdrew it from his head and into the pensieve, then took a breath. It was only a memory. It couldn't hurt him. He stuck his face into the liquid, and then he was falling.

He found himself on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, watching an older looking Draco charge through the door, casting a disarming spell at Dumbledore. He'd forgotten how quickly he'd disarmed the man, no hesitance then. No, the hesitance came after.

"Good evening, Draco," Dumbledore greeted, calm as anything. At the time, Draco had found it frustrating, patronising. But was it more than that? Was it because this was all part of the man's fucked-up plan. When everything was over after all, when Snape and Voldemort were dead, Potter claimed Snape had been working for Dumbledore after all. That it had been Dumbledore who instructed Snape to kill him. Why? Was Dumbledore so dedicated to the game, that he was willing to sacrifice his own life to come out on top? Probably. He'd always thought Dumbledore was like an old chess-master, moving pieces around the board, throwing them into the path of the enemy in order to get the upper hand. He always seemed like the kind of guy who would be willing to sacrifice his Queen. Even if that piece turned out to be himself.

"Who else is here?" the other Draco asked, looking at the second broom on the rooftop. _That's a point._ It was a question Draco never got an answer to. A question he had forgotten. Had there been another person on that roof that night? He looked around. If there was, they must be invisible... _Or under an invisibility cloak! Potter!_ Potter hadn't been around, fighting alongside his friends after all. There had been rumours he and Dumbledore had been up to some secret mission that evening. Potter must have been watching the whole time. It made sense. Dumbledore's allies had known straight away that it was Snape who killed him, after all. Someone must have told them, someone must have witnessed. Draco wasn't sure how he felt about that, that his friend had been there, watching one of his darkest moments. Sure it wasn't _his_ Harry, it was a different one, a one from a timeline that surely no longer existed. But he had watched. And no doubt judged.

The other Draco (Draco wasn't sure what to call him; younger in mind, but older in body) was trying to bluster about how he was going to kill Dumbledore. Fake confidence and boast about his previous attempts to kill the man, his genius in coming up with the plan with the vanishing cabinets.

Dumbledore and the other Draco argued about who's side Snape was on. The other Draco called him a "stupid old man", but no, in hindsight, it was Draco who was wrong.

"Someone's dead," the younger Draco announced in response to a question Draco hadn't caught. "One of your people... I don't know who, it was dark... I stepped over the body..." _Who was that?_ Draco racked his brain. He thought only Dumbledore had died that night? _I must have been wrong, about someone being dead I mean. I guess they weren't really dead, merely wounded. It's not like I'll have stopped to check..._

The topic returned to whether Draco was going to kill Dumbledore.

"I haven't got any options!" the memory Draco exclaimed, "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!" And that was what it was all about, wasn't it? Draco's reasoning for doing a lot of things in his past life that he wasn't proud of. Maybe once the idea of serving Voldemort had actually sounded a good idea, something he _wanted_ to do, not something he had to, but that had quickly changed once Draco realised what kind of a monster his family was tied to. It was the Malfoy family weakness. They'd got into the mess in a quest for power (his father's quest for power), but had got stuck into it because they loved each other. Some people might think Draco's parents monsters. Draco's father was a Death Eater after all. But Draco knew he wasn't a monster. Sure, his father had done some terrible things. Even when he didn't have to (he didn't have to plant the diary on Ginny Weasley after all, and yet he did it, when he must have known the consequences wouldn't be good, even if he was naïve of the full extent of them). But Draco also knew that his parents loved each other, and loved him, and that was stronger than any hunger for power, any bigoted belief. They weren't loveless monsters. And by the end, all three of them were trapped in that nightmare by their love.

The Carrows, Yaxley and Greyback burst into the memory and took over most of the dialogue. Draco wasn't pleased to be seeing them again after all this time, particularly Greyback. He was more horrific in this memory than Draco could have imagined. The yellow claw-like nails. The mattered hair. The stench of blood. The pointed teeth. How he smirked, licking blood off his lips, gloating about liking children. Draco felt himself step backwards, his breath coming from him in quick, weak pants. Time had not over-exaggerated the monster. Instead, it appeared the few times Draco had permitted his mind to briefly think about him, it had downplayed the awfulness.

Eventually Draco managed to drag his mind back to the present (or well, the present part of this old memory). The Death Eaters were still trying to persuade Draco to finish his task when Snape burst through onto the rooftop.

"Severus," Dumbledore softly begged. Draco remembered at the time being shocked at how... _weak_ the man sounded. "Severus... Please...". He'd always assumed Dumbledore had been begging for his life, but looking back with what he knew, well, that probably wasn't the case. The opposite in fact. For whatever reason it was (Draco had never properly heard the whole explanation, something about securing Snape's position as a spy?), Dumbledore was begging Snape to kill him.

" _Avada Kedavra."_

Draco watched as a jet of green light hit Dumbledore in the chest, blasting him into the air and off the back of the battlements. He starred at the empty space where the man had been stood, maybe for a second or two, before he left the memory and found himself back in the present, withdrawing his face from the pensieve.

A single tear ran down Draco's cheek. That had been a lot. He felt emotionally wrecked. But also, better somehow. He'd needed to do that. It was one of his worst memories, but actually, looking back, one of his strongest moments. He'd felt it was weakness that had held him back from killing Dumbledore. He'd feared what the consequences of his inaction would be. But it had been okay. Not good, not for a long time. But the things he feared would come to pass for disobeying orders, well, they didn't happen. He'd not allowed fear to drive him to cross a line he could never come back over. He'd done many things he wasn't proud of during the war. But never killed. And that was something to be proud of.

He was just worried that might be a record he would be unable to keep this time around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I hadn't anticipated writing. But I felt, after recent chapters, Draco needed to do something to get his shit together. And this just felt right.  
> Had to get my copy of HBP out for this chapter. In the book, it doesn't seem to say who the fourth Death Eater is (or maybe I missed it?), but the internet said it was Yaxley, so I went with that.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote this bit, and it's about long enough for a chapter, so you might as well have it now too.  
> We're probably nearing (ish) the end of this fic. There's still quite a bit of the book left, but on skim reading, most of it's irrelevant to the plot of the fic because it's already been negated (such as by the absence of the Time Turner), so the remaining fic length will mainly depend on how long the original material stuff takes.  
> This fic's already longer than the first one in terms of words, and the second one in terms of chapters (that one seems to have longer chapters on average though).

During the week, Harry suggested to Draco that he join him at his Patronus lesson with Lupin.

"Oh, no, I don't want to interfere."

"Professor Lupin suggested it might be helpful for both of us. He said Snape mentioned the two of you were struggling to find a suitable Dementor stand-in, and that it might be helpful for you to try casting against my boggart."

"Lupin said _Snape_ suggested to him!?"

"Well, yeah."

"So they were talking?"

"I guess. Our Dementor lessons must have come up in conversation."

"But they hate each other!"

"They don't seem to like each other much. But I guess not many people seem to like Snape, and Snape doesn't like anyone so..."

"It's more than that." _I swear it's more than that..._

"So anyway, what do you think?"

"Well my boggart isn't a Dementor. I don't really want..."

"Lupin said that as long as I'm stood closer to the boggart than you are, it should keep its Dementor form. We could take turns."

"Well..."

"Come on, I need some competition to motivate me into finally producing a corporal Patronus!"

"Alright, okay, yeah, we'll try it."

So Saturday found Draco, Harry, Lupin and Snape all stood in the History of Magic classroom (which was apparently where Lupin had been holding Harry's lessons for some reason). There was a definite tension in the air; Snape clearly disliked two of the people in the room (and Draco wasn't convinced the man liked him much either), and after reliving Greyback's presence last week, being in an enclosed space with Lupin made Draco feel uneasy.

After a brief discussion, and pausing to get the boggart out, Harry stood in front of the boggart-Dementor, ready to face it, with Lupin standing close-by and offering encouragement, Draco stood back to give his friend space, and Snape lurking right at the back of the classroom.

Draco watched as Harry cast the Patronus charm, one, two, three times, each time getting a glowing ball of light, which flittered out quicker each time, before the boy fell to the floor in a faint. Panic swept over Draco and he dashed towards his friend, firing off his own Patronus as he did so. He turned Harry over, holding his head in his lap. Lupin came over, and it was only when Draco looked up, that he caught a glimpse of his own boggart (that seemed to be in the form of Cedric Diggory's corpse at that point), before the boggart changed once more into Lupin's moon. Draco could tell from the man's face that he'd seen though. He didn't get a chance to check whether Snape had, because at that point, Harry stirred, catching Draco's attention, and the man had made his face impassive by the time Draco turned around. Lupin offered Harry some chocolate and helped him to his feet.

"Your go now," Harry commented once he'd finished the bar.

"What? You can't think I'd expect you to have to expose yourself to your boggart after that!"

"I'm fine. I'm used to it."

"That always happens?"

"Yeah."

"And you keep making him go through that!?" Draco directed angrily at Lupin.

"I don't make him. It's Harry's choice."

"Draco, I need to learn to do this. I won't be defeated by Dementors. Or boggarts. And as I said, now it's your go."

So once again, Harry stood closest to the boggart and it turned back into a Dementor. But this time, he stepped to the side, leaving Draco with a clear shot on it (but further away, so it wouldn't switch). Draco took a breath. He could feel the chill in the air, some of the dark thoughts brewing in his mind. It wasn't as strong as it would be with a real Dementor, but it was more realistic than an empty cloak. Draco had to work that bit harder to focus his mind.

"Expecto Patronum!" His white centaur shot out and charged the faux-dementor. He released the spell (feeling slightly more worn out than previously), and Lupin stepped closer to the boggart once more, to give Harry a break (as he was starting to look a little pale again).

Harry had one final go at casting his Patronus (managing mist-form again), before they called the lesson over. They spoke vaguely about considering doing the same thing next week, but no one committed to the idea.

Later in the day, whilst Harry was taking a nap (the lesson seemed to have taken a lot out of him), Hermione was studying and Ron was... actually Draco wasn't entirely sure what Ron was doing..., Draco went back to the Room of Requirement to use the pensieve again. He'd decided he was going to take time to try to go over his old memories at least once a week. He wasn't certain whether it was helping, but felt it maybe was? Plus, it was probably a good idea anyway, in case he came across any details that would be useful for his mission that he'd not thought about. It was whilst in a memory that he had a thought; as well as controlling his fears to help him produce his Patronus, maybe he could use a memory to _practice_ his Patronus too? If he used a memory where he'd faced a Dementor, then he would be reminded of how it felt. He decided to start with the memory of the Dementors invading the train in his original third year. He hadn't reacted as badly as he had in the do-over, meaning it was a milder memory to use for a trial-run. He went in, finding himself in a train carriage, filled with young Slytherins. Sure enough, it was eerie how the train lights went out and the windows frosted over. The Dementors had never entered his compartment, so he didn't face one directly, but he could see their silhouettes through the window of the door. He fired off his Patronus, watching with interest how it ran straight through the wall of the compartment. Of course, the Dementors paid it no mind as they weren't really there (or more accurately, it hadn't really been there), but Draco knew, if they had faced his centaur guardian for real, they'd have retreated.

He stayed behind after the next Potions class to mention the idea to Snape.

"Pensieve memories?" asked the man, intrigued.

"Yes. I don't think me casting against Harry's boggart is really a viable solution for any of us. I think this might be a good alternative."

"You would be providing the memories, I presume?"

"Yes. I have when they invaded the Hogwarts Express at the start of the year. And when they invaded the quidditch pitch. Though I'm not sure how well that one would work, considering I was up in the air at the time." _And I have other memories, but I can't be mentioning ones not from this timeline._

"We will try that this week then. I shall inquire with the Headmaster about him loaning us his pensieve for the exercise."

"Thank you, Sir."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while again. Had a change of rota at work, so I've been busy. But I've got some days off now, so I'll try to make some decent progress with writing (I might even try to finish off the Third Year, depending on how long it takes).

Sure enough, Snape had borrowed Dumbledore's pensieve. There was some awkward, stilted conversation as the man started to offer to help Draco retrieve his memory for the pensieve (probably expecting that Draco would not be keen on allowing him to go rooting around inside his mind), and so when Draco went ahead and produced the memory himself with no problems, he looked relieved but... surprised? ( _No, not surprised. Curious?_ )

Draco had quickly reviewed the memory the night before, wanting to check it didn't involve anything incriminating (but not wanting to reduce the impact of memory of the Dementors).

The memory in place, Snape activated the pensieve and they both dove in. They emerged in a cramped carriage on the Hogwarts Express, listening to the tail-end of a discussion about Andromeda Tonks. Draco noticed Snape frown slightly at the mention of Sirius in the conversation.

The train slowed down and the carriage was plunged into darkness. Draco could feel the chill in the air from the Dementors, and the fear. Logically, he knew there was no need to be scared, it was only a memory after all, but he could feel the fear from his past self creeping inside. Hermione opened the compartment door, and the Dementor started to force it's way in. Snape put a hand on Draco's shoulder when he didn't immediately react, reminding him why they were there. He cast, only producing mist, as he listened to his memory self mutter ("no, not again," he managed to make out), and, to his embarrassment, scream). The scene felt to be fading away as Draco took a breath and cast again. He felt the energy fly through his wand, but didn't get a chance to see if he was successful, as the last of his past-self's consciousness faded, and the memory ended, spitting Draco and Snape back out into the classroom.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Draco found himself gasping for breath. Though the memory hadn't shown what Draco had been thinking about in his Dementor-induced terror, it had reminded him somewhat, bringing past memories to the front of his mind once more.

He used his Occlumency to get his thoughts in check, and looked up to find Snape staring at him. It wasn't the man's usual glare. It was softer, more curious and... caring?

"You did well," the man announced after a pause.

"I didn't produce a corporal Patronus."

"Your second attempt would have been successful, had it had time to form. Though you were slow to react at first, you recast straight after your first attempt failed. You didn't let that failure set you back."

"I should have been quicker."

"And that is why we are practicing. See how far you have come? This memory is from what, a few months ago, and you reacted so badly to the Dementors you apparently passed out?" The end of the question was said with a gaze at Draco suggesting that the man was annoyed to be just finding out about this now.

"Yes, I passed out, okay!?" Draco replied, defensively.

"I wasn't stating that as an insult on your part. I merely meant that I was surprised that, as your Head of House, I wasn't informed of the incident."

"Why would we...?"

"No one knows, do they?" sighed Snape, putting things together. "No responsible adults, I mean."

"Well, no. But, well, we were fine."

"We?" He paused. "You weren't the only one to react badly to the Dementors, were you?"

"Harry passed out too." A complicated series of emotions crossed Snape's face in reaction to that.

"What happened?" Snape asked eventually. "At the end of the memory, it seemed like the Dementor was going right for you all. Since we did not end up with a carriage full of soulless students, something must have happened."

"Some older student apparently produced a Patronus and scared it off. A Ravenclaw _. Webber..._ I think was what he said his name was."

"Tyrone Webber?"

"Yeah, that was it."

"10 points to Ravenclaw," Snape declared after a pause, with a vague look of respect.

They re-entered the memory for a second time, for Draco to have another go. He produced his Patronus on his first attempt this time, and the white centaur had chance to charge around the memory before the scene faded away.

"Well, I think we should call it a day there," Snape announced after they had exited the memory once more.

"Same time next week?"

"Well, actually, I think we've gone as far as we can go. Without bringing an actual Dementor along for you to face, and I do not plan on doing that. Now it's just up to you to practice. I've taught you what I can."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Thank me by keeping out of trouble for once. I have enough on my plate as it is, without having to deal with whatever chaos you manage to create with your Gryffindors." Draco didn't reply, not wanting to make a promise he very well might not end up keeping, just giving a nod of acknowledgement and turning to leave.

"And Malfoy?" Snape added. Draco turned back around. "Try not to tell people about these lessons. I have to waste enough of my precious time teaching idiot children. I don't want any more turning up requesting extra lessons." Draco wasn't sure whether he should be insulted that that statement implied that he himself was an 'idiot child', but he decided to let it slide.

Although he'd managed to keep the lessons on the down-low for the whole time he'd had them, it was barely a week later than he found himself being questioned about them. Zabini and Nott accosted him as he was leaving the dorm for dinner the next Sunday (having returned to put his cloak away after spending the afternoon visiting Hagrid with his friends).

"Not having any special lessons with Snape this week?" Nott asked.

"What?"

"Don't deny. We know you've been having them. What they're about, is another question. It clearly can't be potions."

"Why not?"

"Because you're good at Potions," Zabini replied. "Good enough to avoid any major disasters, despite your persistent habit of partnering with Longbottom. So you clearly don't need remedial lessons. But you also don't have enough passion for the subject that Snape would want to spend his time privately mentoring you."

"And why do you say that?"

"Because again, you keep partnering with Longbottom."

"And why can't I?"

"I'm not saying you can't. I'm not even trying to insult him. I have nothing against him. I'm sure one day he could become a fine wizard, if he gets over his self-confidence problem. But one thing he will never be, is a Potions prodigy. Sure, the fact he seems a bit intimidated by Snape isn't helping, but it's also obvious that Potions just isn't where his skills, or his interests, lies. Herbology, yes. Potions, no. And if you were as dedicated to Potions as you'd have to be for Snape to take an interest in mentoring you, then you wouldn't be able to put up with Longbottom nearly messing up your Potions every lesson."

"Okay, fine. It's not Potions."

"Then what is it?" Nott pressed.

"Snape was helping me learn how to produce a Patronus," Draco reluctantly admitted.

"After your bad reaction at the quidditch match?"

"And on the train."

They didn't say anything for a short while.

"Not going to make fun of me for my weakness?"

"Please, we're Slytherins. What would we have to gain, by making fun of you here?"

"So you're going to find a better way to embarrass me?"

"Probably not, no. You've recognised a weakness you have, but rather than let it get to you, you've done something to try and counter it. I respect that."

"Thank you."

"So bringing us back to the original question, you not having any lesson this week?"

"No, they've finished."

"You can produce a Patronus?" Zabini asked. Both he and Nott looked like they were trying to not look impressed at the concept. Draco took a second to think, then shrugged and cast. His centaur pranced around the dorm, filling it with a soft glow.

"A centaur? Interesting," Nott commented.

Draco ended the spell.

"Is that all? Because I for one am hungry, so if there's nothing else, I'll be going."

"Sure, Malfoy. You answered our question in the end, after all."

"Okay. And if you could keep the answer to yourselves, that would be appreciated."

"Don't want others knowing what you can do? Smart. It's often wise to let people under-estimate you."

"That, and Snape asked me to not to say anything about the lessons. He doesn't want the whole of the House bothering him for them, after all."

"Of course. Well, you have our discretion." _Do I now?_

"I appreciate that."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter hasn't been as swift as I originally intended- I've been enjoying my time off work, but also hit a bit of a writer's block.

The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match was approaching and Harry seemed strangely... apprehensive.

"I know there won't be a repeat of last time I played," Harry reluctantly admitted, "the Dementors aren't even on the grounds anymore. I just have... I don't know. A bad feeling."

"Nope," Draco announced, grabbing Harry's hand and starring at the palm. "I don't see any danger for once. I see you catching the snitch, winning the match, and the nearest I see to a Dementor attack is possibly some idiots having a robe-based fashion disaster." Draco had recently remembered his own experience at impersonating a Dementor. It had seemed a fine prank until he'd been taken out by Harry's Patronus. It had been a fair fall to the ground off Crabbe's shoulders; it wasn't just his pride that had ended up bruised.

"Get off!" Harry exclaimed, pulling his hand away, but he was smiling now.

"Oh yes, I definitely see a Gryffindor victory," joined in Ron, grabbing Harry's other hand and starring at it intently. Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly caught between wanting to support her friend, and not wanting to even pretend Divination was reasonable practice.

"Besides, didn't you say you have another Patronus practice before the match this week?" Draco added, "You're nearly there already. One more go may be all it takes for you to be ready to face any Dementor stupid enough to show up."

Draco wasn't sure if his motivational speech had played any part, but Harry came running into the Room of Requirement later that week announcing that he had 'done it!'.

"Done what?" Hermione asked, glancing up from her Arithmancy textbook.

"Produced a Patronus!" Harry beamed. "It's a deer, just like my father!"

"Your father's Patronus was a deer?"

"No. Well, actually, yes, Lupin says it was. But his animagus form was a deer too! Sirius told me all about it. They used to call him Prongs, because of the antlers."  


_Prongs. Why does that sound familiar..._

_'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs...'_

_Fucking hell. That's who made the Map._

_Moony is Lupin. I even heard Black call him that this Summer. And now I think of it, I feel I have heard Pettigrew referred to as Wormtail before possibly? If Prongs was Harry's father, then that must mean Sirius is Padfoot. What kind of animal would you call fucking Padfoot? Clearly something with feet. A cat maybe? He seems prissy enough that his animagus form would be a cat..._

Draco was brought out of his thought tangent by a bony Weasley elbow to the ribs.

"...Ey Draco?" Ron was asking, with a keen smirk.

"What?"

"Weren't you listening? Honestly. My brilliant humour is wasted on you people." Harry looked rather underwhelmed, and Hermione was rolling her eyes again, so presumably whatever the joke had been, Draco hadn't missed much.

Good as it was that Harry had finally managed to produce his (not-yet) famous Patronus, it wasn't needed for the quidditch match, which Gryffindor won comfortably in the end, with Harry out-competing Cho Chang to get the snitch after around 40 minutes. After the game and the Gryffindor celebrations had wrapped up, Draco and his friends headed down to Hagrid's hut to meet the half-giant. They were cutting it a bit close to lunch (and the prospect of having to eat the man's horrendous cooking) for Draco's tastes, but they had promised when the man had popped by to offer his congratulations (and pat Harry on the shoulder with his ginormous hands, nearly beating him into the ground) straight after the match.

After discussing the match, they moved on to a discussion of magical creatures. Draco was half tuning it out, as it was mainly covering the class he was decidedly not taking, when Hagrid addressed him directly.

"I didn't know you knew the centaurs, Draco."

"Oh, I don't. Not really." _What have those nags been saying?_

"But you went into the forest to speak with them."

"Well you see, my Patronus is a centaur. I needed to get some more insight on that."

"Is it? That must have been what they were referring to when they mentioned your 'great honour'. But as great as it is that that is your Patronus form, and that you're taking an interest in Magical Creatures, particularly as you're not taking the class," [ _hell no, I'm not_ ], "you really shouldn't be going into the forest on your own. Some of its residents can be dangerous, if you don't know how to interact with them. If you need to go into the forest, then let me know, and I'll take you."

"Thank you. But I don't see myself needing to go into the forest anytime soon."

"Didn't you say you told the centaurs you'd go back and show them your Patronus?" Harry asked. _Damn it._

"We could all go," Ron suggested. "I've not met the centaurs properly yet."

So that was how Draco found himself traipsing through the Forbidden Forest in the company of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and Fang (his mutt). Luckily they'd managed to arrange the excursion for after lunch (and even managed to escape to the Great Hall for an elf-cooked rather than half-giant-cooked meal), otherwise Draco would be starving by now. They'd passed near the acromantula territory, and Ron near shit his pants, apparently unaware that a population of giant, potentially man-eating (despite Hagrid's assurances to the counter) spiders was residing a matter of miles from where he lived for most of the year. Draco was more worried about the possibility the centaurs might start giving away his secrets.

He needn't have worried. On the whole, the centaurs seemed most interested in Harry. Apparently the Boy-Who-Lived was an interesting subject for Divination (the centaur version, as well as the joke Trelawney taught). One of them proudly began telling him of danger ahead.

"As Venus crosses Mars, old friends turned enemies will be reunited once more. But as the moon obscures the path, so it obscures our vision of what is to come. Be careful young foal, for I fear danger comes your way once more."

Draco did demonstrate his Patronus for them before they parted. Most of them just nodded serenely, leaving their faces as unemotive as possible (and not _Merlin-forbid,_ showing approval), but the old white centaur, who'd turned up at some point, seemed to smile proudly at Draco, before turning away to leave.

"We are glad to see the Dementors have been removed," one of the other centaurs added before following along.

"I take it that's a _thank you,_ " Draco muttered quietly to his companions once the centaurs were far enough away they wouldn't hear. He wasn't particularly surprised. He'd spent enough time around centaurs now that he was used to their pretentious nature. Expressing gratitude wasn't really something they did.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that really should have been part of the last one, but I wasn't sure if I'd get it written tonight, and didn't want to keep you waiting for an update.

Having been reminded about the Map, and given a vague prediction of doom by the centaurs, Draco realised he should probably be being more proactive about a possible threat. He studied the Map, and the seven different entrances it showed into Hogwarts and its grounds. Two he discovered weren't viable; one on the fourth floor was completely caved in, and another was blocked by the Whomping Willow, but at the other five, he left alarm charms, which would alert him if anyone tried to use them. This did lead to him having a bit of a fright during History of Magic a couple of weeks later, when one of them suddenly went off. However, when he sneakily checked the Map under his desk, he discovered it was just the Weasley twins.

Another Hogsmeade weekend was coming up.

"Let me guess, I'm to have a conveniently timed detention this weekend?" Draco asked Snape, hovering behind after Potions when the man gave him a look like he wanted to speak with him.

"If you continue to cheek a Professor, you definitely will be in detention."

"So, you're saying I'm not now?"

"No."

"So I can go to Hogsmeade?"

"Apparently so."

"Thank you Sir."

"Hogsmeade trips have nothing to do with me. Now, if that's everything, I would suggest you leave, before I give you a detention for wasting my time."

Miraculously, no mysterious detentions or extra lessons did end up being arranged, and Saturday saw Draco, Harry, Ron and Hermione walking around Hogsmeade and having a generally nice day out. Clearly Dumbledore had finally decided it was safe for the Boy-Who-Lived to leave the grounds (/run out of excuses/forgotten to come up with one). Whatever the reason, the 'risk' paid off, and the worst thing that happened was Ron spilling half a butterbeer on Hermione's skirt.

The Easter holidays arrived. Draco spent them mainly chilling, with some vague planning. Ron also seemed fairly relaxed. However, Hermione was doing her usual pre-exam manic revision, and Harry was being run ragged by Wood and his insane quidditch practice schedule. Gryffindor already all but had the Quidditch Cup in the bag, and Hufflepuff likely wouldn't be much of a threat, considering Diggory was really their only decent player, so Draco didn't really see the need. He was just glad it wasn't him.

For all the drama building up to the match, it was rather underwhelming. Harry managed to just beat Diggory to the snitch after a mere twenty minutes, during which Gryffindor had built a mild, but unremarkable, lead. That didn't stop Gryffindor apparently having a massive party. Ron remarked, on filling Draco in the next day, that his twin brothers had even managed to get a large supply of butterbeer from somewhere. ( _So that's what they were doing, when they used the secret tunnel to Honeyduke's again..._ ).

After that, almost everyone seemed to be focussed on revising for exams. Well, except Draco, who was still taking a laid-back approach to his still rather easy studies. Sure, he'd had to do a bit of studying for Ancient Runes, but Divination was all just bullshitting anyway, and he'd found the best way to revise for Muggle Studies was to read some of the Muggle fiction he'd acquired, or to set Hermione off on a rant about one subject or other, and half-listen to what she was saying.

One evening, when his friends were looking particularly frazzled, Draco dragged them down to Hagrid's. He thought they could do with a break, and an evening in the half-giant's company could be just that (there was unlikely to be any mystery the man could accidentally set them on to right now, after all). In fact, it was so much of a distraction from their worries, that they lost track of time, and it was just past curfew when they realised they should be heading back. Hagrid insisted on walking them back to the school, hoping he might be able to vouch for them to prevent them getting into trouble if they got caught.

They were just walking across the grass up towards the school, when suddenly a figure shot out of nowhere, barrelling into Harry and knocking him to the ground. That was when all hell broke loose...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!  
> Hopefully I've covered everything I needed to happen before, because now we're entering the (hopefully) dramatic endgame for third year (I think this year has dragged on long enough...)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! It's the main fight-scene I envisioned when I started writing Third Year, but I'm not particularly confident at writing action.

It all happened so fast. One second they were walking, the next, the figure was pouncing on Harry, sending him to the floor, and _clawing_ (?) at him. Draco was so surprised that he didn't react immediately (something he would berate himself for later). Instead, he just stood there gobsmacked, before the sight of Hagrid running in to Harry's defence kicked his brain back into action, and he drew his wand. Draco fired off a stunning spell at the attacker (not wanting to go for anything more violent, as there was a good chance he could hit Harry, or now Hagrid, instead of the attacker). Though his spell seemed to hit its mark, it had apparently zero impact on its target. That was the first clue that the attacker wasn't pure human (if the manner of the attack being bodily, rather than with a wand, hadn't already given that away). Draco drew closer, watching as the figure clawed at Hagrid's arm for trying to pull him off Harry.

_Werewolf._

It wasn't a full moon tonight (that was still a few days off; Draco had been keeping track), but the werewolf was partially transformed. They must have done like Greyback had the monstrous habit of doing; forced their own partial transformation into wolf-form, even outside of a full moon. It wasn't Greyback himself. Draco didn't recognise the figure at all, but couldn't say for sure whether he'd crossed his path in his first life or not. He'd tried to stay as far away from Greyback and his pack of monsters as possible. This man (if you could even call him that) could have been part of it. He wasn't sure.

The werewolf added a further complication to Draco's casting dilemma. Stunning spells would be ineffective. Draco would have to dig deeper and darker if he wanted a chance of actually hurting it. But with Harry still stuck underneath him, and Hagrid wrestling with him, he daren't risk it.

"Expelliarmus!" another voice yelled (one belonging to a figure Draco had not yet noticed), and Draco's wand went flying away out of his hands, landing amongst the grass somewhere. Draco turned around to face the caster, to get another massive shock.

It was Pettigrew.

Luckily for Draco, considering the fact he was at the man's mercy by the nature of being now unarmed, and too shocked to move, Hermione still had her wits about her, and started casting spells at the newcomer. She cast with an impressive rate and precision, even if the spells she chose were rather basic in terms of combative magic. Ron joined her in her attack, with a look of fierce determination on his face.

Considering Pettigrew occupied for the time being, Draco turned back to the werewolf. Hagrid had by now been largely successful at tearing it away from Harry, but even with his large size and tough half-giant skin, it was clear that in the wrestling match he was in with the werewolf, he would not be able to hold his own for much longer. Draco needed to do something. Unfortunately, _what_ was a question he was unsure of. He didn't even have his wand anymore.

_But he did have his silver dagger..._

He'd been carrying around all year (a precaution due to having a werewolf for a teacher). It still wouldn't guarantee success in the fight, far from it. If Draco threw himself in now, he would almost certainly perish, silver dagger or not. But the werewolf wouldn't be distracted by Hagrid for long, and it appeared Harry was his true target. Draco could not allow the monster to kill him, even if the price was his own life. The horrific impact on the timeline if the Chosen One was no more, Draco didn't even want to think about it.

Just as Draco was trying to mentally corral himself into joining the fray, another figure ran in, beating him to it. Somehow they pulled the werewolf from Hagrid and were nearly holding their own, despite their unassuming appearance. It took Draco a second to recognise that it was in fact Lupin. _Well, that explains how he's not been immediately torn apart by the monster..._ However, Lupin was at a disadvantage, still being in human form, rather than partially transformed. He couldn't win this fight either. Not alone.

Draco realised what he needed to do. He saw an opening and threw the silver dagger at the werewolf's undefended side, guiding its path through the air with wandless magic. A ghastly shriek came from the monster. Lupin took advantage of its distraction, pulling the knife from its side and stabbing it back in multiple times. It bucked and clawed and fought, but slowly, its protests weakened, until it stilled altogether.

Draco watched for a second, making sure it wasn't going to get up again. He turned towards Pettigrew. Worryingly, Ron was now lain on the ground, apparently unconscious ( _hopefully just unconscious_ ), and Hermione was looking furious, but clearly tiring. Draco and Pettigrew met eyes for a second. Draco glanced down, spotting his wand on the ground between them (but nearer to himself). Pettigrew followed his eyes to it, before the two of them locked eyes again. There was a moment of tension. Would Pettigrew target Draco before he could get to his wand? Would Draco grab his wand and take down Pettigrew? Pettigrew glanced back to his fallen comrade. That seemingly made his mind up. One second he was there, the next he wasn't, as he shrank down into his Animagus form, and disappeared into the grass. Draco grabbed his wand, but Pettigrew was gone.

The immediate threat was apparently over, but Draco's adrenaline was still running high, and quick action was still required. What first? Help. They needed help. Draco and Hermione were the only ones who appeared unhurt (and Draco didn't really want to think about yet how hurt his other friends could be, but he needed too).

Draco summoned his Patronus. He'd heard mention of Patroni being used to pass messages, but he didn't know how to do that (it hadn't been covered in his lessons). Nevertheless, if he sent his Patronus to Snape, even silent, hopefully the man would realise something was up and follow.

"Go get Snape," he told the glowing centaur, who looked Draco in the eyes with a seriousness indicating it understood. "Please. Get help!"

Hermione was dealing with Ron, so Draco dashed towards Harry. Hagrid was groaning, and attempting to crawl his way towards him, and Lupin was weakly extracting himself from under the corpse of the presumably now dead werewolf. Harry was curled up in a ball, still trying to protect his body with his limbs. Whether he wasn't moving out of fear, a sense of self-preservation, or because he was unable, Draco wasn't sure. He turned his friend over onto his back, gasping in shock as he saw streaks of bright red through the tears in his dark school robes. He started trying to push them aside to see the no-doubt horrific wounds, but hands stopped him.

"Draco, stop," Harry croaked.

"Harry!" Draco gasped, relieved that his friend was still living. "I need to see your wounds. We need to stop the bleeding!" He continued his efforts, despite Harry's attempts to the contrary.

"I'm fine!"

"You're bleeding!"

"I'm not." Harry succeeded in pushing Draco away and sat up. He pushed his ruined robes aside to reveal his dragon-scale shirt. It appeared intact. "I'm fine," he reassured again. "The shirt saved me."

"Thank Merlin," a hoarse voice croaked from behind them. Draco and Harry both turned to see Hagrid, propping himself up on his forearms, looking rather worse-for-wear, but relieved to hear Harry was unharmed.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. Both he and Draco crawled over to help the man. Unlike Harry, Hagrid did have visible wounds from his tussle with the werewolf, mainly to his forearms, and they were bleeding at a reasonable rate. Harry tore off a strip of his already torn robes to start wrapping round them to help stem the bleeding. Draco wanted to do something to help, but he wasn't an expert on healing magic, and besides, he couldn't cast another spell until he dismissed his Patronus.

Speaking of Patronus, Draco's centaur glided back towards him, with Snape hurrying behind it. That was a sight that looked wrong. Snape didn't _run._

The man seemed to take in the scene in front of him, and sent off his own Patronus, before joining Draco, Harry and Snape on the ground. Lupin had managed to crawl his way to join them too.

"What happened?" Snape demanded.

"A werewolf and Pettigrew attacked," Draco told him. "Pettigrew got away. The werewolf's over there." He indicated towards it with his head. Snape glanced in its direction and was seemingly satisfied that it was dead, or at least injured enough to not be a priority.

"Injuries?"

"Hagrid's wounded, Lupin's..." Draco paused, looking towards the man in question.

"I'll live," he supplied, looking weak, but pulling a face to say his injuries weren't top priority right now.

"And Ron's..." Draco started, only for panic to hit him again, remembering seeing his friend lying on the ground. "Ron's..."

"He's alive," Hermione supplied, shouting towards the group. "He's unconscious and injured, he took some spell-fire. But he's alive." Snape gave the group he was knelt by a quick once-over look again, before getting up and running over towards Ron and Hermione. Draco was just wondering whether to get up and follow him, or whether to stay with Harry, to make sure he was truly alright, and help him see to Hagrid and Lupin, when more figures arrived. This time it was McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Oh Merlin, what happened!?" McGonagall gasped.

"Attack. Pettigrew and a werewolf," Draco replied, nodding towards the werewolf again. "Pettigrew's gone." Dumbledore marched over towards the werewolf, whilst McGonagall started fussing over those on the ground.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm unharmed. Harry claims he is too. But we probably should get Hagrid and Lupin to the Hospital Wing."

"And I could use your help binding my wounds in the meantime, Minerva," Lupin chipped in. "I'd do it myself, but right now, well, that would be a bit of a struggle." He held up his hands as an explanation; they were bright red and the skin had been all-but burnt off. Draco felt something inside him repulse in horror as he realised the burns were as a result of Lupin holding the silver dagger to stab the werewolf. It must have been agonising, and yet the man hadn't stopped until the beast was dead. McGonagall outright gasped at the sight, before stealing herself and summoning up bandages to make a start at wrapping the man's wounds.

Stretchers were summoned, and soon a procession of them began the long walk to the Hospital Wing, with Snape levitating Ron, McGonagall: Lupin, and Dumbledore: Hagrid, with Draco, Harry and Hermione following along worriedly behind them.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on the last chapter! I was nervous about it, so it was lovely to see lots of positive comments.  
> Sorry this chapter's taken a while, I've been busy with work, then wasn't sure how to write it. There were a few things I needed to cover in this chapter, but getting them all to fit together and flow was a bit difficult.

Madam Pomprey looked concerned by the arrivals into her domain, but soon set about triaging them, determining what needed to be addressed first, and bossing the other staff around, instructing them how best to assist her. Her eyes bulged even more when she saw that it was Draco, Harry and Hermione who had walked in after the stretchers, particularly on noticing the state of Harry's robes. She appeared somewhat relieved when they insisted they were unharmed, but somewhat doubtful. She pointed them towards free beds, telling them to sit, and to not even think about moving until she'd had the chance to confirm their health for herself. Draco wasn't surprised. The three of them had visited the Hospital Wing enough times over the past three years that it was understandable the mediwitch doubted their abilities to avoid attracting injury.

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to start questioning everyone there and then, but Pomprey shot him a look to say 'don't you fucking dare'. The man acquiesced, and continued to follow her instructions, until she declared any pressing injuries dealt with, and had had chance to look over the others.

"So what happened?" the headteacher asked, once he'd got the nod from Pomfrey. When no one immediately spoke, Draco decided he may as well start.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione and myself had been visiting with Hagrid. On realising the time, Hagrid agreed to escort us back to the school. We were just walking up when a figure, who we later discovered to be a werewolf, ran out of nowhere and pushed Harry to the ground. Hagrid helped try pull him off Harry. I was trying to stun it when I was disarmed by Pettigrew, who had just joined the werewolf in trying to attack us. Hermione and Ron fought Pettigrew. Professor Lupin arrived, and he joined in fighting the werewolf. He successfully managed to take it down, with the help of a silver dagger I happened to have on my person."

"Do I need to see to this werewolf, or Pettigrew?" Pomprey asked, with a degree of distaste in her voice.

"No. I confirmed that the werewolf was indeed deceased, and past the possibility of your help. I have asked Filius to secure the body. And Pettigrew I believe has fled the grounds once more." Dumbledore replied. He turned back to the group at large. "Do we know the identity of the werewolf in question?"

"I think Pettigrew referred to him as 'Romeu'..." Hermione spoke up after a brief awkward silence, surprising the room.

"Sebastian Romeu?" Lupin asked (sounding like the effort of doing even that was quite trying for him at present).

"I don't know."

"You know him?" Dumbledore questioned.

"I've never met him. But I've heard the name, as being one of Greyback's pack, and what I've heard about him would fit with the wolf we saw tonight."

"Pettigrew said something about Greyback", Hermione added, "but it sounded like werewolf was an enemy of Greyback, not an ally."

"What did Pettigrew say?" Snape asked, facing Hermione with a deep stare, as if he was considering legilimency to find out exactly what she knew.

"He was talking about Voldemort. About planning to find him, on wanting to please him. It sounded like Romeu had agreed to work with him, wanting to gain Voldemort's favour so he'd help him in his quest for power over other werewolves, to overthrow Greyback."

"And what was their plan for this evening?"

"That didn't seem entirely clear. Pettigrew was shouting about Harry, but it wasn't clear if they were wanting to hurt him or capture him. I'm not certain they knew."

"Thank Merlin they were unsuccessful, what ever it was they were planning," McGonagall uttered, smiling protectively in the direction of her student. "Are you sure he is uninjured?" she asked Pomprey. "You said he was attacked by this werewolf?" she added towards Draco.

"I was wearing my dragon-scale shirt," Harry answered before anyone else could, lifting up a sleeve to demonstrate. "His claws weren't able to penetrate it. I'm a little bruised, but otherwise unharmed. It's not me we need to be concerned about." He looked towards Lupin, Hagrid and Ron with that latter statement, who were all conscious, but looking somewhat worse for wear.

"You were expecting an attack?" Dumbledore questioned Harry, suspicious.

"No?"

"Then why were you wearing the dragon-scale shirt?"

"Oh, it was a birthday present from Draco. I wear it under my clothes most of the time now. Draco recommended it, considering how often I manage to get accidentally injured. It certainly turned out to be a good thing today."

"Hmm." Draco wasn't able to read Dumbledore's reaction very well. He seemed conflicted.

They moved on to talking about the fight between Pettigrew and Ron and Hermione. Draco listened intently, not knowing precisely what had happened.

"Pettigrew kept monologuing whilst firing spells at us," Hermione told them. "We were holding him off, but then he fired some kind of blasting spell at me and Ron decided to shove me out of the way and it hit him instead."

"It would have hit you in the head!" Ron protested, joining the conversation for the first time, and sitting up somewhat, which earnt him a scowl from Pomprey. He sat himself back down with a wince, but continued to look more alert than he had been doing.

"After than, Pettigrew had the advantage. But he saw that the werewolf had fallen, and Draco was retrieving his wand, and so decided to flee. He turned back into his Animagus form and we lost sight of him."

"How did Pettigrew and the werewolf get onto the grounds in the first place?" McGonagall asked.

"Why don't we start by asking Lupin?" Snape suggested, with a dark smirk. "After all, he used to be friends with Pettigrew, and is a werewolf himself."

"LUPIN'S A WEREWOLF!?" Ron asked, shooting up in bed once more. Everyone turned towards him, looking surprised by the sudden outburst, but not the statement itself. Draco already knew that he, Harry, Snape and Dumbledore knew, and he wasn't surprised McGonagall and Pomprey knew either. He hadn't known Hermione knew, but wasn't all that shocked she'd figured it out somehow.

"Yes, but it's okay. He doesn't hurt people," Harry reassured.

"Well, apparently tonight he killed a man in cold blood. A werewolf, yes, but a man nonetheless," Snape argued.

"That was self-defence!" Hagrid argued. "An' defence of me, an' Harry, an' the other students!"

"Plus it was a team effort," Draco added.

"Yes, I couldn't have fought him alone," Lupin agreed. "But it was me who killed him. Albus, if you feel justice needs to be served for the death, then the punishment should be on me, and me alone."

"Are we telling the Aurors about what happened tonight?" McGonagall asked quietly, addressing Dumbledore, but speaking loud enough that the whole group could hear the question.

"That is something we all need to agree on. What would be for the greater good?" Dumbledore spoke. "A death has taken place. A wanted criminal has broken onto school grounds. If the Minister finds out about this later, and that we didn't think to inform him, he won't be pleased. But I'm not sure the Ministry is best placed to deal with the issue."

"They'll probably just send us the damn Dementors back..." Draco muttered.

No one else said anything for a short while.

"So we're covering this up?" Hermione asked, sounding somewhat disapproving.

"You think we should tell the Ministry?" Dumbledore asked.

"No. Well, yes. Well... isn't that what we're meant to do?"

"Hogwarts has always operated separately to the Ministry. The extent to which is... debatable." _Ah, loopholes and excuses._

"If we agree we're not telling the Ministry, then the events of tonight need to stay between those of us in this room," Dumbledore instructed.

"We can't tell our parents?" Ron asked.

"Well, if you think it's for the best, and that they can keep the secret, you can." Dumbledore's tone was definitely hinting that they shouldn't. Draco didn't doubt the fact Dumbledore was looking at Draco when he spoke the latter half of the sentence wasn't a coincidence.

"Sirius'll want to know," Lupin told Harry, "but I think it might be best if we wait until the end of the year to tell him. He'll probably storm the school otherwise, once he hears Pettigrew was here." Harry didn't look pleased about the idea of keeping secrets from his Godfather, but clearly he understood where Lupin was coming from.

"What about the injuries?" Hermione asked. "Won't people ask what happened to Ron, and Professors Lupin and Hagrid?"

"Don't worry about me," Hagrid reassured. "Me' skin's tough. It'll soon heal. 'Sides I usually wear me' coat anyway. People won't see the scratches."

"Will there be any consequences for Hagrid, of being scratched by a werewolf?" McGonagall asked Pomprey.

"It's hard to say. The werewolf wasn't fully transformed. Plus, his giant's blood, that's an unknown factor. I'm hopeful that if any effect, it'll be minimal. Lupin's already a werewolf, so his scratches won't change anything, and thankfully no one else got scratched."

"The students already think I'm sickly," Lupin announced, "with me being 'ill' every month. It won't be hard for them to believe that I've come down worse, and so have had to leave, to go recuperate."

"You think it'll take you a long time to get better?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"I'll probably be feeling a bit better in a day or two," he replied, "but I meant more for why I'm not teaching anymore."

"You're quitting!?" gasped Harry.

"I can't stay here. We've seen tonight that werewolves don't belong in a school. We need better anti-werewolf wardings, and those can't happen if I'm here."

"But what about your class!?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"I've taught everything for the year now, anyway. The remaining lessons are just revising for your exams, and you don't need me for that."

"I'll be sorry to see you go," Dumbledore told him, indicating that he was reluctantly accepting the man's resignation.

"Thank you for giving me the chance in the first place."

They moved on to discussing the explanation for Ron's injuries.

"I don't know. I'll tell people I got attacked by the Whomping Willow? We were kind of in the vicinity of it, after all," he suggested. A strange look crossed Lupin's face when he mentioned the Whomping Willow. Draco caught it.

"What?" he asked, looking at the man with an expression showing he knew he had something to say.

"I think that must have been how they got into the grounds," the man announced. "Via the Whomping Willow."

"What!?"

"There's a tunnel under it. It comes out at the Shrieking Shack. We knew about it when we were at school. Of course Pettigrew would know about it! I should have thought!"

"I didn't think about it either," Dumbledore reluctantly admitted. _Wait, Dumbledore knows? About one of the secret entrances at least!? Why hasn't he done more about them? There didn't seem to be any security at the ones I put charms on. (Of course, I neglected to put charms on the fucking one they actually used. They could have been coming and going all year for all I know!). Even if he didn't know about all the others, Lupin clearly does. He made the damn Map, for fucks sake. And so did bloody Pettigrew. I best put a charm at that caved in tunnel. Maybe it's not as closed as I thought it was either..._

After that, McGonagall pointed out that it was getting very late, and that the students should be getting to bed. She walked Harry and Hermione back to Gryffindor, Snape walked Draco back to Slytherin (surprisingly not grilling him whilst he had him alone), leaving Ron, Lupin and Hagrid in Madam Pomprey's care whilst Dumbledore went to catch up with Flitwick and relieve him from guarding the werewolf corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re. the werewolf's name: I'd been thinking about what to call him, wondering whether to go with some kind of wolf-related name. I happened to be watching football whilst writing, and a player called 'Romeu' walked across the screen and I was like 'well, that works' (sounding a bit like Romulus...). The Sebastian bit was just chosen at random.


	27. Chapter 27

When Draco, Harry and Hermoine called at the Hospital Wing in the morning to visit Ron, their friend was happily helping himself to a large cooked breakfast, Hagrid was loudly snoring away, and Pomprey was arguing with Lupin, seemingly unsuccessfully trying to persuade him to stay longer.

"I think it'll be best for everyone if I leave sooner rather than later," he insisted. "I'll go pack my stuff up this morning, and be out of the school by lunchtime, when the news that I'm not teaching my classes will have started to spread, I'm sure."

Draco realised he had questions he wanted to ask Lupin, and today might be his last chance for a while. Sure, he could always write (but letters always ran the risk of being intercepted), and he might well see the man at the Black House at some point, but he wanted to speak in private.

So that's why, at the start of the second lesson of the day, Draco found himself knocking on the door of Lupin's Office.

"Draco? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?

"Yes, but it's History of Magic. Binns won't miss me. He doesn't even know who I am. The nearest he's got to identifying me correctly is the times he's mistaken me for my grandfather."

"Still, you shouldn't be skipping class."

"I wanted to speak with you. And from what you said earlier, you won't still be here at lunchtime."

"Come in then," he sighed, holding the door open. "As you can see, I was just packing." The room was a bit chaotic, with papers on the desk, and a half filled suitcase out. "What did you want to know?"

_Where to start?_

"How did you know we were in trouble last night? You just came out of nowhere. Like they did."

"I was walking near the greenhouses. I like to stretch my legs before bed, and I often walk around, check I can't see any students out after curfew. That's when I smelt him. The werewolf. My senses are always heightened as it gets closer to the full moon. If it had been another week ago, I'd have missed it. But I caught his scent, and knew there was another wolf around." He looked somewhat ashamed, turning away from Draco and busying himself by clearing a pile of books off a chair, with the excuse of freeing it up for Draco to sit if he wished. The action clearly irritated his hands, which still looked red and sore.

"Do they hurt?" Draco asked, indicating towards the hands in question.

"I've had worse."

"But still, the way you kept holding onto that silver dagger, even when it was burning you..."

"I had to. I had to stop him, before he hurt anyone else any further." He put the books down in the case (wincing again as he bent over, clearly pulling on wounds over his ribs). "Dumbledore has your dagger by the way. If you go ask him, I'm sure he'll give you it back. You should hang onto it, even if the immediate threat has been dealt with, and me leaving the school of course."

"Are you angry? That I've been carrying the dagger, I mean?"

"No. I understand. You needed to feel safe. I'm sure last night demonstrated to you even more the risk werewolves pose."

"Not... Not all werewolves," Draco muttered.

"What?"

"Thank you. For protecting us last night. If it wasn't for you, we might all be dead. I couldn't have beaten the werewolf. I let myself get disarmed. I let them find their way into the school in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew about the secret entrance under the Whomping Willow, but I wrote that one off. I thought the damn tree was in the way. I was lax, and we nearly all paid the price for that."

"It's not your responsibility to defend the school Draco. You're a student. What could you have done?" Draco still felt guilty. A thought must have crossed Lupin's head. "You have the Map, don't you?"

"...Yes," Draco admitted.

"And you know who made it?"

"I know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are, yes. I should have realised sooner than I did. Black referred to you as 'Moony' over the Summer after all. But it wasn't until Harry announced his Patronus was a deer like his father, like _Prongs_ , that I put two and two together."

"Does Harry know about the Map?"

"No. None of my friends do. You think I'm selfish, don't you? After all, Harry's father helped make the Map. He has so little from his father, and yet I'm keeping this from him."

"Why haven't you told your friends about it?"

"Because the source I got it from asked me not to. And because they're Gryffindors. I thought if they knew about it, they'd want to use the secret tunnels. That if they saw Pettigrew on the Map, they'd want to go charging after him. I thought I could use it to keep us safe. Ha! Fat lot of good at that I was!"

"This wasn't your fault! None of this was! You're already doing so much to keep your friends safe. If you hadn't given Harry the dragon-scale shirt, then he would probably have been seriously injured. If you hadn't had the dagger, then I don't think I would have won the fight. You put too much pressure on yourself. You're a good person, Draco Malfoy. I think you're going to be a great wizard. Don't let fears and doubts bring you down. Don't let anyone tell you who you're going to be. And don't let misfortune break you." Lupin removed the hand he'd put on Draco's shoulder, and stepped back, tidying his desk once more. "Now, if there's nothing else, you should be getting back to class. I know you're one of the top students in your year, and I'd like to see proof of that when results come around. I don't want to hear you've not done as well as you could do, because you've been slacking." Draco raised his eyebrows somewhat sarcastically in response. It wasn't a secret that he put less effort into studying than some other students (particularly Hermione).

"Fine. Well goodbye, Professor, and thank you."

"Goodbye Draco. I expect our paths may well cross again sooner or later."

Ron was released from the Hospital Wing the next day. He received some light-hearted ribbing from Fred and George, on being 'defeated by a tree', but took it graciously. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true. After being inspired by hearing Neville comment about being injured by a plant being nothing to be ashamed of, and listing multiple plants in present in the school greenhouses that could have done worse damage, Ron ended up putting Sparkcliemia leaves in their beds, causing them be covered in a bright orange rash, which clashed considerably with their hair (the lesions were somewhat flame-shaped, hence the name).

The student body at large seemed to be naïve of what had actually gone down that night. The early departure of Lupin caused surprisingly little comment (but they were used to Defence teachers departing early, and there weren't any strange rumours flying around this time, unlike with Quirrell and Lockhart).

Exams came and went, and once again the school year was at an end. It hadn't gone exactly as Draco had expected. He hadn't got as much preparation for the future made as he would have hoped (though at least he'd finally learnt to produce a Patronus). Once again, Draco had done well in all his classes, even the new ones. He'd got an Outstanding for Divination (Trelawney had eaten up all the bullshit he spewed in the exam), and Exceeds Expectations for Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies.

Nott came up to Draco in the dormitory, whilst he was packing.

"How did you do in Muggle Studies?"

"I got an Exceeds Expectations. You?"

"Acceptable. I need a favour."

"What?" Draco was always suspicious when a Slytherin asked him for a favour, and this Slytherin in particular.

"You know the summer project we have? To visit a Muggle attraction and compare it to a Wizarding one?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I figure it would be helpful to have someone there who knows about Muggle things. So if you could get Granger to agree to go with us..."

"Us?" Draco wasn't surprised when Nott's only reply was to raise an eyebrow to say 'of course us. I couldn't possibly be seen in public with just _Granger_ for company'.

"You could bring Potter too. He'll know something about Muggle attractions too I assume."

"If I'm inviting Harry and Hermione, I can hardly leave Ron out..."

"Oh, fine. Bring Weasley too," Nott agreed, as if it was a great concession. "I'll write to you to arrange the details."

"My friends still need to agree of course."

"Of course."

Another school year was over. Draco and his friends spent the train journey back to London chatting and enjoying each other's company, before parting ways, promising to meet up lots during the summer. The moment felt a little anti-climatic, because Draco knew that last time around, the next year was when everything started to change. This time it would be when he really needed to step up his game. He had a Dark Lord to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it! Third year is finished! It felt a bit sudden, because my bookmark's still quite far from the end of my copy of 'Prisoner of Azkaban', but most of that is the time loop that we're not having, and I think hopefully I've covered everything we need to cover (and this fics similar length to the previous, so I think we've said enough).
> 
> I made up Sparkcliemia and I don't even think it's a good name, but I thought the idea of a Neville-inspired prank could be funny.
> 
> I have more ideas for Year Four, than I did for Year Three when I finished Year Two (if that makes sense), so hopefully it won't be too long until I start posting, but I'll probably try to get a decent start on it first.


End file.
